


Hard Wrought Joy

by SummerLeighWind



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abortion, Adopted Children, Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Babies, Babysitting, Character Death, Children, Christmas, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Letters, Teen Pregnancy, Teenagers, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-24 23:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3788641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerLeighWind/pseuds/SummerLeighWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly always wanted to have children, but when the unthinkable happens, her path to motherhood takes a twisting, winding turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Upset of a Future

Molly was woken by a hand petting her head. Annoyed, she pushed it away and turned over in her bed. It wasn't morning, she knew. In the mornings she could see the sunlight streaming in from her window through her eyelids even before she opened them. Why someone was trying to wake her when it was still _dark_ was beyond her, and she'd rather not, too. That was because she'd been having quite a nice dream where there was a blue-green ocean and pink butterflies that could _swim_ with her in the water!

The hand that had woken her moved onto shaking her shoulder.

"Noo…" she whined as she curled up around her dolly, Mathilda.

A chuckled filled the room and Molly knew instantly that it was her daddy who'd been trying to wake her. Flopping over to her other side so she could face her daddy, she squinted up at him.

"What, Daddy?" she demanded.

Molly could tell even in the darkness that he was smiling as he reached down and gently pulled her up. "Your Mummy had the baby, little girl, I know it's a bit early, but I thought you might like to come and meet them."

"What? Really!" she shrilled in pure, blissful joy. She'd been waiting _so_ long for the baby! For forever and then some! Nearly falling out of bed in her eagerness, she asked, "Is it a boy or a girl, Daddy? Please say it's a girl. I wanna have someone to play dress-up and tea with!"

Gently catching her as she got tripped up on her quilt for the third time in as many seconds, her father swept her into his arms and kissed her cheek with his scratchy mustache making her skin itch. "Sorry, little girl, it's a boy."

"Aw," Molly pouted. But, even that couldn't keep her down long as she knew from playing with her boy-cousins from Mummy's side of the family they could be just as fun–especially if you knew they had done something they weren't supposed to. Like Rupert, he'd cussed in front of her when he knew he wasn't supposed to and promised to play whatever she wanted when he realized she'd heard him and could tell his Mummy and Daddy.

Little arms winding around her daddy's neck, she questioned, "What's his name?"

"Your Mummy's still deciding," the man told her as they left her bedroom for her parents' down the hall. Walking into her daddy and mummy's bedroom, Molly's view of her mother and brother were blocked by Daddy as he shifted her down lower on his hip before setting her down in the dressing chair Mummy kept by the wardrobe.

The room lit dimly by yellow lamps, her father's twinkling eyes looked all the more joyous as he said, "Close your eyes, won't you little girl?"

"Why Daddy?" she frowned.

His smile widened a centimeter as he told her, "There's a surprise along with your new brother."

Very curious then, Molly did so. She listened with rapt attention as Daddy moved away and to Mummy and Granny and Aunt Tessie were all huddled by the bed.

"–got him?" Mummy spoke.

"Yes," Daddy replied.

A minute later, she felt somebody–probably Granny from the smell of flour and daisies–arranged her arms so it would be easy for Daddy to put her baby brother in her arms.

A moment later, Molly felt a warm little body be settled in her right arm and in her left she felt–!

Eyes popping open, she gasped. " _Two_ babies!"

All the adults were giggling quietly at her reaction. Mummy, looking quite tired from where she was in bed holding Aunt Tessie's hand, smiled at Molly. "I hope you don't mind that you have two little brothers instead of a little sister."

Shaking her head at her mummy, Molly beamed at the babies. "I love them," she declared.

It was true, too. Looking into their pig-pink faces that were all wrinkly and smushed, she loved them. Just holding them she could imagine all the amazing things to come–the first time they opened their eyes for her, the first time they cooed, gurgled, laughed, and smiled. The first time they spoke with her, walked with her, played with her...

The future seemed like an endless stream of happy days and new discoveries.

But the best part? _Molly_ would get to help them do all those great, great things just like her parents had done for her.

Cuddling them close to her cheeks, she kissed each of their heads and said, "Someday I want babies just like these."

The adults all laughed some more and Daddy crouched down and pressed a quick peck to her forehead. "You're going to be their little mummy, eh?"

"Uh-huh!" Molly promised with a big smile.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Staring up at the underside of her canopy in the late darkness of night, Molly was stricken with a very sudden and real revelation. She'd never experienced a time so quiet at Hogwarts–especially not in her dorm room. All her yearmates, Mabel Ollivander, Catherine Killick, and Noel Tuft liked to talk. Together, they could chat and gab and spin yarns for hours upon hours in the room they all shared. In fact, they could talk so much they'd more than once forgotten to sleep from all the gossiping they did.

Around Hogwarts, they were known for this feat. So well known, in fact, that several Slytherins along with a Ravenclaw or two, took cruel pleasure in casting silencing charms on them when they crossed any of their tight group. It was annoying and hurtful, but Molly had long since learned the counter for the spell. These days, she strived to not let it bother her and only made a fuss about it when with or near her boyfriend, Arthur, the Head Boy, who could dock them points for it.

Molly's heart gave a sudden, loud thud at the thought of her boyfriend and all the heat in her body rushed to her face. She was so ashamed, so guilty, so _upset_ that she could cry, but…

Her hand trailed down to her stomach.

She couldn't even feel it.

Letting her hand rest on her abdomen for a time, Molly mused that it was almost like it didn't exist at all. If she hadn't missed her last two periods she probably wouldn't have even thought it possible either. But she had and now she was afraid of what was going to happen if this carried on too much longer.

If it grew and it became obvious, she would have to drop out. Her parents wouldn't want her going to school when she had a baby to take care of–Merlin, _Molly_ wouldn't even want to go to school with a baby to take care of! She didn't want to miss a minute of any of her children's lives if she could. But she was so close to finishing school. It was only November and she so badly wanted to finish along with all her friends and Arthur.

Turning on her side, Molly thought of the potion she'd bought from a Hufflepuff girl the other day. All she had to do was take it and the baby would be gone. It'd be like it'd never existed and no one would have to know. Bringing her hands together, she twisted the promise ring Arthur had given her at the start of the school year.

If she had the baby, would Arthur marry her? If he did, would he feel cheated or robbed of choice? If Molly left school, would Arthur follow? She didn't want him to. It'd be better if at least one of them had a Hogwarts education over neither.

Frowning into the darkness of her room, Molly strained her ears. Noel sometimes talked in her sleep, but not tonight and no one was a snorer. Heart heavy, she was made to realize it was now or never. She had to choose right now what she was going to do about the baby growing inside of her.

Was it better that she let this baby, one she wasn't ready for and half-believed wasn't real, go or did she let it continue to flourish and become a reality?

Kissing her fingers, she pressed them on her stomach and whispered, "I'm sorry, love. But we just aren't ready for you yet."

It hurt to admit it, but Molly wanted to be the _best_ mother possible for her children. How could she if she wasn't even ready for them? She'd heard that others found a way and made it work, but that was not what she wanted. No, Molly wanted everything to be _perfect_ for her baby. She wanted it to be born to her and Arthur as a married couple who wanted them, she wanted it to be born into a house that it could live its whole childhood in, she wanted it to be born into a life where people wouldn't be whispering about their mother and how she'd dropped out of school to have them.

She never, ever wanted her baby to think it was a mistake or unwanted–not even for a _second_.

Sitting up, Molly reached beneath her bed and pulled up the vile with the concoction that was supposed to expel it from her body. Uncorking it, she wrinkled her nose at the poignant, acidic smell and downed it all in one large gulp.

"Ugh," she spat as she stuffed her pajama sleeve in her mouth to get rid of the taste of the potion. Re-corking the vial, she pushed back under her bed and settled back down beneath her covers. The Hufflepuff had promised she'd know if it worked in a few hours time when she started bleeding heavily. Seeing as morning was only four away, she figured it was best she catch a little sleep between then and now.

Closing her eyes, Molly fell into an exhausted sleep within a matter of minutes.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"–ly?"

Blinking open tired, sleep-swollen eyes, Molly made a low humming noise as she gazed up at the fuzzy, twisty image of a person. They reached down and touched her face; it was so nice and cold - like the water of the brooke near her home on her skin in the hottest days of summer. Clumsily, she brought her hand over to clamp down on the fingers on her face.

She felt the person attached to the hand jolt. "Molly?" they asked.

Molly squinted at the person above her, vaguely, she could make out a frame of brown hair around a squarish face. "Noel?" she inquired.

The hand on her face relaxed some and even began to pet her cheek. "That's right, Molly," the person said in a tinny, faraway voice. "Now, keep talking to me alright? Mabel and Catherine went to get a professor."

A feeling of panic overwhelmed Molly. _A professor_?! That was the last thing she wanted! If one came in, they'd _know_. They'd know what she'd done and they'd tell her Mum and Dad and then _Arthur_ would find out and-

"Nooo!" she sobbed, struggling to sit up through her fever daze. "Nooo!"

Noel pushed down on Molly's shoulder. "Don't get up, please, Molly," she begged. "You're all bloody."

"'Course I am," she sniffed as she laid back down. "That's how you lose a baby."

The girl's eyes went wide and shocked. "Oh, you _didn't_!" Noel bemoaned.

"Wasn't ready to be a proper Mum. Don't even know what I'd have named it," Molly muttered as she curled up around her middle as her body was wracked with a sudden, body engulfing pain.

Starting to scream as it intensified, Molly just barely saw her other dormmates come in with Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey before she passed out into the comforting arms of oblivion.

-v-v-v-v-v-

The next time Molly wakes up, there was no hovering person, no familiar colors, smells or materials. Everything was white and the room was sharp with the scents of the medicinal and everything from the pillow casing she has her head laid out on to the socks on her feet are scratchy and uncomfortable. What made it all the worse, though, was the quiet sound of someone whimpering. Turning her head, Molly saw that it was her mother sniffling into her handkerchief in a chair beside her.

"Mum?" she croaked.

Big, doe-like eyes caught her gaze and mist over with a new wave of tears.

Reaching over, Molly weakly gripped the fabric of her mother's skirt and asked, "What happened?"

Her mother, a woman who's best know for her laughter and smiles, did not give either and instead began to sob loudly and painfully. Terrified by her mother's odd behavior, the teenager asked again, "What happened, Mum?"

Shaking her head, Molly's mother buried her face in her handkerchief and with her fears now spiked to a level akin to a rodent about to be caught by a cat, Molly started to breath frantically. "Mum?" she begged as the woman gave another wheezy wail. "Mum? Mum! Mum what happened! Mum what's wrong? _What's wrong_!"

A couple aides ran into the room at the sound of Molly screaming and when they saw she was sitting up, heaving hard as she shouted herself silly. The duo came to her side and took her arms in constrictor-like grips.

"Calm down, Miss," one, a fairly burly fellow, ordered in a low grumble.

Still yelling as she fought against the hands of the aides, Molly attempted to get her mother to give her an answer one last time by screaming, "Mum! Mummy, what _happened_ to _me_?"

From the corner of her eye, she could see the two aids passing something between them as she looked to her mother who'd turned fully in her chair to face away from Molly. Suddenly, she was sputtering as the non-burly aid pressed a vial against her lips and made her start to gulp down its contents.

Almost instantaneously, Molly started to calm down. Within a couple of minutes, her heart began to slow down to a normal pace and the feeling of fear that had spurred her fit was overtaken with with one of tranquility.

It was sort of like the feeling she got when she and Arthur laid together on the ground and watched the clouds change shape above them. However, it was different, too, as there was something forceful about this calm, it just covered the fear that she knew was still there - lurking in the back of her mind waiting for the peace that had implanted itself in her to leave.

Even so, she still asked, "What happened to me?"

"Just wait a minute, Miss Prewett, we'll get the healer," the one that fed her the Calming Draught said.

Nodding easily, Molly gave them a beatific grin and settled her hands in her lap. "Oh, yes, please do."

The pair smile back at her and left her room, only to be replaced by a rather old and balding healer a minute or more later as her mother shifted back to face Molly and continue her incessant sniveling.

Coming over, the healer gave her his hand. "Hello there, Miss Prewett, I'm Healer Jones," he told her.

Shaking the hand, the teenager nodded. "Nice to meet you, sir," she said. His hand was warm and his fingers calloused, very much like her father's. Mind drifting, she wondered where her father was and if he was at St. Mungo's, was he just getting something to eat or outside smoking?

Healer Jones cleared his throat. "Now," he warbled, "I was told you wanted to know why you are here, is that right?

Snapped back to her ever less pressing problem, she nodded. "Yes, would you mind explaining, Healer Jones?" she asked.

The balding man's face took on a look of regret as he took a seat gingerly on the edge of her bed. "What I'm about to tell you will likely be quite upsetting, dear. It's not a happy thing in the slightest," he told the teenager.

"I'll be alright," Molly replied confidently as she carefully maneuvered herself to be on level with the sitting man. She would be too, she believed. The Calming Draught the aides had given her was in full affect and had left her with a vague feeling of optimism.

Nodding along, Healer Jones replied, "Right. Well, to put it simply, that concoction you took to expel the fetus was several doses higher than it should have been and in the process of getting rid of your pregnancy, also damaged your uterus so severely that you will no longer be able to conceive any more children."

"So, I'm sterile?" Molly asked for conformation.

Healer Jones patted her hand. "That you are, Miss Prewett. But don't think this means anything else. You can still have sex, you can still raise children and do all the other things women do with their lives. You just can't have a baby anymore."

"That's too bad, I always wanted to have one." Molly sighed, the slightest niggling of sadness making itself known through the hazy feeling of peace that kept her calm.

Getting up, the balding man told the teenager, "You still can, dear, adoption is always an option."

"You're quite right, I suppose."

Standing straight up and ready to leave then, Healer Jones concluded his discussion with, "I'll have an aide bring in a few pamphlets on adoption and sterility for you–just so you can get an idea of what things will be like."

"Thank you, sir," she called after his retreating body.

Then, moving her gaze onto her mother, Molly remarked from her cloud of calm, "That wasn't so hard, was it, Mum? I can't have any babies, what's so difficult about that?"

Her mother's eyes, hard, blue jewels of pain, stare at her. "Molly, you've always wanted to be a mother," she murmured softly.

"Well, I guess I'll have to find something else to be," she declared as she turned away from her mother.

Settling her head down on her pillow, Molly didn't mind its itchiness nearly as much as she had in the beginning. The feeling of peace having lulled her into a state of sleepiness, she muttered, "I'm tired, wake me in an hour."

And with that, Molly let the haze of the Calming Draught help her back into slumber.


	2. Forging Forward

Stopping just outside the kitchen, Molly listened closely. She could hear the sound of her mother humming below her breath and the clatter of glasses being put in the cupboard, but she couldn't pick out anything in the familiar din that indicated her father was in the room too. She didn't hear the rustle of a _The Daily Prophet_ nor did she smell the rich, woody scent of his favorite cigarettes which he always liked to smoke before he left for work.

Sighing, Molly stepped in hoping still she'd find her father sitting at the kitchen table. When he wasn't there, she asked, "Mum? Where's Dad?"

"Your father's gone to work already, Molly," her mother said as she turned around with a couple of mugs in hand. "Come have a seat, I'll put the kettle on for us."

Wavering in the doorway, she almost considered refusing and just going back to bed to cry. Molly hadn't seen her dad since she came home from St. Mungo's and it _hurt._ Nearly as much as her ruined dreams of being a Mum.

"Dad…he's doing this on purpose, isn't he?" Molly questioned as she took a seat at the table.

Sitting down across from her, Molly's mum pushed one mug–her favorite pink striped yellow one–her way. "He's ashamed, Molly," the woman sighed. "What do you expect him to do? Would you rather he be here and yell at you?"

Swallowing down the sharp lump in the back of her throat, Molly let her eyes drop to the tabletop and said nothing in response. After all, what could she say? He had all rights to be embarrassed by her. She'd gotten herself into trouble and then into even more while trying to get herself out of the first bit of it.

"But, even so, he loves you," her mum said as she gently brought Molly's eyes up to meet hers.

Looking around the kitchen, at the tea kettle heating on the stove, the open window letting in the last bit of the year's decent weather and the fireplace that was as empty of warmth as her heart, Molly let her gaze return to her mother's blue eyes. "Then why is he not here for breakfast? I made sure to wake up early just to see him off. Ashamed or not, it's been a _week_ of this and I've not seen hide nor hair of him since I've come home from St. Mungo's! Even yelling would be better than being treated like I don't exist at this point!"

Her mother's eyes fell away and she began to wring her hands together. "You have to understand how _hard_ this is for him…He thought you were a _good girl–_ "

"I am!" Molly argued.

The woman's face turned into a frown. "Good girls don't get pregnant and then abort the baby, Molly," she rebuked.

"Good mothers save their children from undue suffering."

"Good mothers don't kill their children!" her mother shouted.

Setting her jaw, Molly forced herself to narrow her eyes even as she wanted to let them go wide and mist over with tears. "I'm going back to my room," she hissed. "I have work that Professor McGonagall sent me to do."

"Molly!" her mother shouted after her, but she didn't turn around. No, Molly picked up her pace and all but ran into her room before slamming the door close.

Collapsing in a heap against the door, she buried her face in her arms and cried.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Among all the other students about to board the Hogwarts Express, Molly felt unusually nervous. She was a seventh year going back to Hogwarts to finish the last stretch of her schooling–just like several others that she had spied on the platform. But, unlike those others, she has been gone from school much longer than just for Christmas Holidays.

"Are you sure you want to go, love?" her mother asked as she reached out to push back Molly's red hair. "There's no shame in saying no."

Molly shook her head at the middle-aged woman. "No, Mum," she said. "I have to go back. I want to finish school with all of my friends and be like everyone else again."

"But you _aren't–_ "

"Pearl," her father broke in hard and fast. "Molly's made her choice. If she wants to go back, we can't tell her no. She's a grown woman and can make her own choices." Then, the man pointed his finger in her face and ordered, "But I don't want to hear about any more trouble, understand me? I will not tolerate any more shame brought on our family by you Molly."

Molly felt her heart twist at his demand. He never had a kind word for her any more. Every bit of conversation between them was brisk and rough, he did not hug or kiss her anymore, and her father wouldn't so much as be alone in a room with her since she came home from St. Mungo's. Lowering her eyes, Molly whispered, "Yes, Dad."

Sandy-blond brows lifting with satisfaction, Molly's father gestured for Fabian and Gideon to come to his side. "Yeah, Dad?" Gideon questioned, his eyes unusually solemn.

"You boys sit with your sister on the way back to Hogwarts and keep her company, understand?" he ordered.

Fabian bobbed his head in agreement. "We will, Dad."

And together, Molly flanked by her younger brothers on either side of her, the trio say goodbye to their parents before heading off to the train. Once on the Hogwarts Express, Molly looked down at the oddly stern faces of her impish brothers. "You two don't have to sit with me. If you prefer to go sit with friends, I won't mind."

Gideon shook his head. "You're our sister, we're staying with you," he declared.

Flattered by their dedication, Molly leaned in and pressed a kiss each to their foreheads (another thing she'd never get to do now that she couldn't have children…). "You two are so sweet to me." She sighed. "But you know what I'd like best? I'd like to have my jesters back, please."

Some of the tension left the pair and they gave her sort of sheepish smiles. "We haven't felt much like playing jokes when everything's been so–"

"–rough lately," Fabian finished for Gideon.

Molly understood what they meant. The last month and a half had been awfully trying for everybody. For Molly, their mother, father and even the twins. Coming to terms with what Molly had done and the complications that had risen from it had made everything very difficult and sometimes, awfully bleak.

"Well, we're on our way back to normal–or as close as we're going to get–so, this is the only time I'm ever going to say this, but I _demand_ you play a grand prank on someone when we get back to Hogwarts, alright?"

"Sure, whatever you want, Molly," Fabian said as he grinned widely at Gideon.

Gideon smiled back for a moment before he pointed to an open compartment as they began to walk down the lane. "There's one!" he cried.

Hurrying over, the trio walk into the compartment and to her surprise, Molly saw her dormmate Catherine already sitting in the small room doing her nails.

Glancing up at their entrance, Catherine returned to her nails only to do a double-take a second later. "Molly!" the tall girl yelped.

Hesitantly, Molly went over and smiled at her dormmate. "Nice to see you again, Catherine."

Standing up then, Catherine wavered for all of a moment before she took Molly into an all-encompassing hug. "It's good to see you too! How are you? We heard…Well, we heard a lot of things, but it's nice to see you're coming back to Hogwarts!" Pulling away then, Catherine commented, "We didn't think you'd be coming back after you missed so much school. I guess we should have expected more of you, huh? You always were the bravest of us."

Molly felt hollow as her friend talked. "The Headmistress sent me assignments."

"That's good, so I guess you won't be all that much behind," Catherine said.

Nodding, Molly agreed. "Yes, I should be on the same level as the rest of you. Catherine…Did the others go home for hols?"

"No, Mabel and Noel stayed at Hogwarts. I would have too, but Mother insisted I return home since my uncle had just come home from America."

Molly nodded, quite relieved that she wouldn't have to make nice with anyone else. "You don't mind if Fabian and Gideon sit with us, do you?"

The tall girl shot the two boys a quick glance and smiled. "No, not at all!" Sitting back down, Catherine gave the seat beside her a pat and told Molly, "Sit down! Sit down! We have so much to catch up on!"

Reluctantly, the siblings all took a seat; Molly taking the one beside Catherine and her brothers the ones across from the girls.

"Now, where do I start?" Catherine said with a pleased grin.

Neither Molly nor her brothers offered any opinions, so after a moment, the tall girl just started to babble about Divination and as she went along, her tale became a coherent storyline that Molly knew, if she were in any mood for it, would have enjoyed immensely. After all, Catherine was always the best at telling stories; she had a way of using her hands and facial expression to make it truly entrapping.

She'd be a good mother someday, capable of entertaining her children for endless hours alone with her gift of gab. Molly liked to talk too, but she wasn't much of a storyteller. Maybe it was better she wasn't able to have children, surely she wouldn't be able to keep them still for fifteen minutes–let alone hours by just talking to them. However, even as Molly mused on her friend's abilities instead of listening to her epic, she knew she had to at least attempt to look like she was listening or Catherine might _notice_ and ask what's _wrong_.

And that question would just be too much for Molly, because how would she answer? How could she possibly give an answer to her friend when all the things that were wrong could never be fixed? The helplessness she felt was bad enough, she had no interest in spreading it to others. Especially to others like Catherine, who did not deserve to feel useless.

So, even as her inner thoughts deafened her ears, Molly did her best to keep her friend talking by humming and nodding her head with the occasional smile as her brothers so helpfully posed a question or added in their own bit every once in a while. And it was thanks to her small acts, and the help of her brothers, that Molly could think of all the people back at Hogwarts, all of her friends, housemates, professors, and even the other students.

How would they look at Molly? Did they know what had happened to her? She really, really hoped not, but, somehow, she just knew she wouldn't be so lucky.

And what of Arthur? She'd tried writing him a thousand times over while recovering at home, yet she hadn't managed to send him a single letter and he hadn't sent her one either. Did that mean they were through? Part of her hoped so, but, mostly, she clung to the fact there'd been no break up letters as a sign that when she returned to Hogwarts, they could go on and be the happy couple they'd always been.

Unlike Arthur, Catherine, and Mabel had sent her a few at the beginning, but when Molly had failed to respond, they'd stopped. Noel hadn't sent anything and it made Molly very fearful for what the other girl might have said to their housemates and non-housemates alike about her. Did she tell everyone what had happened? Had she denounced Molly as a vile girl and murderer?

She hoped Noel hadn't. After all, Catherine seemed quite happy to see her and even though she seemed a little surprised by Molly's return to Hogwarts, she looked quite excited at the prospect of having her back at school. Molly was suddenly startled from her reverie when she felt a warm hand wrap around hers.

Meeting her friend's gaze, Molly was awed by the tenderness she saw in Catherine's silver eyes.

"Molly, I'm so happy you're okay. When we found you that morning…I was scared–we all were–that we'd never see you again. You're one of our best mates and it's just so–" Catherine dried her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and smiled. "I don't care what happened then or if what they say is true about you doing it on purpose. I know you, Molly; you wouldn't have done something so terrible unless you thought you absolutely had to. So, no matter what happens, I'm standing by you. All of us will, me, Mabel and Noel."

"Thank you," Molly replied in barely more of a whisper as she blinked back tears of her own. "Thank you for thinking so well of me and trusting my reasoning for doing what I did. It means so much to me. Thank you for being such a good friend when I know I've been a rotten one for not writing you or anything."

Catherine offered Molly a handkerchief. "It's no trouble, Molly. What are friends for?"

Reaching out, Molly ignored the handkerchief in favor of hugging Catherine. The other did not hesitate to return the embrace and Molly knew if nothing else, Catherine would be a best mate for life and that as long as she had her (and her brothers) by her side at Hogwarts, she'd make it to graduation.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Her return to Hogwarts, as she'd expected, was met with a great deal of staring and whispers and while Catherine stood steady beside her through it all, the same could not be said for Noel or Mabel. When she'd come into their dorm that first evening, the brunette had given her a look of pure disgust.

"They let _you_ come back?" Noel sneered.

Molly had gone stiff, face burning with embarrassment as she considered running out of the dorm altogether. She probably would have too, if Catherine hadn't fulfilled her promise by taking her hand and saying, "Of course she did, Noel! She deserves an education just like everyone else!"

This had not appeased the brunette in the slightest. Crossing her arms, Noel scoffed. "I thought you were just trying to be polite before, but I can see now that you truly are daft, Catherine! She _murdered_ her baby, she doesn't deserve anything besides a one way trip to Azkaban!"

Molly flinched. She couldn't say she hadn't thought the same a few times while recuperating at home, but she'd also made sure to remind herself she'd done it all with a reason in mind. Molly hadn't been ready to be a mum to any baby and to have it would have been terribly unfair to the little one. Who knew what kind of life it would have lead?

It would have suffered from her mistakes and ineptitude and that was something she'd wanted to spare her children of more than anything else.

"That's a cruel thing to say, Noel," Mabel spoke up. "Maybe we don't like what she did– and I don't, sorry, Molly–but I'm sure there was a reason for it. "

The look Molly's pixie-nosed friend sent her was hopeful and begging her to give reason so she could be proven right, but Molly couldn't do that. It hurt enough to keep acknowledging it like she was. The best she could do, she thought, was to leave the lost child in the past and think instead of what she wanted to do instead of being a mother.

"There was," Catherine agreed for Molly. "And she doesn't have to say why it was, because it's _Molly's_ business!"

Noel flipped a lock of her brown hair and turned her back. "Fine, whatever, if you two want to be friends with a killer so be it! But _I_ won't be!"

Mabel sent Catherine and Molly a hurt expression before turning her back on them in favor of standing by Noel. Blinking, Molly eventually moved forward and put her trunk down in front of her bed. It seemed they weren't a cozy quartet anymore, but two opposing pairs.

"That's fine, we don't need either of you, do we, Molly?" Catherine declared.

Shaking her head at her best mate, she sent her a tired, relieved smile. "No, all we need is each other."

Nodding, Catherine offered, "How about we change and head down for dinner?"

"Yes, let's."

-v-v-v-v-v-

It was that row, Molly believed, that had lead her to the situation she was in now. After her friendship with Mabel and Noel fell apart, she'd actively began to avoid her boyfriend, simply so she could put off what seemed like an impending break-up. But that had turned him desperate. It was also why she was now alone with Arthur in an empty classroom, him nervously hovering in front of the doorway, blocking her escape. Molly bet, if she really wanted to, she could push past him without consequence, but she also felt if she did so their relationship would be done.

Molly was tired of losing things. First it'd been the baby, then the ability to have any more babies, next her father's warmth and mother's approval, followed by her friendships with Noel and Mabel. Adding Arthur to the list was the last thing she wanted and she knew she was in the precarious situation of that happening if she didn't proceed with care in how she spoke with him.

"You've been avoiding me," he told her in a cracking, uncertain voice.

Arthur was right, of course. Fleetingly, she wondered if she'd come clean right away, would she feel so horribly close to losing the one boy she loved most in the entire world?

Her fingers going to twist the promise ring from Arthur she still wore, despite the turbulence her heart was in, Molly whispered, "I'm sorry."

"They've been saying a lot of things, Molly. How much of it is true?" Arthur asked.

Hesitantly, Molly looked up. The hardness in his blue eyes was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. It scared her. "I was pregnant," she confessed. "I…I aborted it when I found out."

"Why?" Arthur demanded, his face crumpling right before her very eyes. "Why would you do such an awful thing? Why didn't you tell me first? I would have married you, Molly. I would have taken care of you and the baby!" he finished in a shout, hands balled into fists from his fury.

Molly took a step toward the distraught boy, hoping to get him to understand before he was too angry to see reason. "I'll admit, it might have been a bit of selfishness on my part," she explained. "I knew I wasn't ready to be a mum. I wasn't ready to put the baby through a lifetime of whispers that would have made them question their very existence and I wasn't ready to ruin your life, either, Arthur." When he opened his mouth to say something, Molly channeled her own rage into shrill scream, "Don't you dare say anything, Arthur Weasley! _I'm not done_!"

The boy clamped his mouth shut, a flash of fear coming to the blue eyes that were so lovely to stare in. Covering her face in shame, Molly whimpered, "You can tell me over and over that it wouldn't have ruined your life, but I _know_ it would have. You have dreams, Arthur. Don't you remember, Arthur? You told me enough times that _I_ remember, anyway.

"You said you wanted to visit the muggle world and figure out how a car worked and what a tell-a-vision was. You wanted to get a little bit ahead in the Ministry before we got married, so we could live in a nice house and not some mish-mash shack like your family does because they rushed into marriage and children…"

Curling into herself, Molly just cried. Arthur would get to do almost all of those things now that there would be no baby, but for them, there wouldn't be any more children. Not unless they adopted and Molly greatly feared they wouldn't even get a chance to do that if they did a thorough background check. How would it look to an agency or even a pair of parents giving up their baby if they knew she'd aborted her own?

It would seem quite unsavory, she imagined.

The sound of footsteps on the stone floors of the classroom meant little to Molly as she imagined they were heading for the door. But, when she felt a pair of loving, warm arms wrap around her, the girl wailed even louder.

"You remember all that, huh?" Arthur whispered as he stroked her hair. "I always thought you were the girl for me, but, Merlin, if I ever needed anymore proof…"

Looking up from her hands, Molly sniffed, "There's one more thing. It'll probably change your mind about me being the one for you, but I won't lie to you or keep anything from you any more. It was bloody disgusting what I did and I learned my lesson. Arthur, when I aborted the baby, it damaged my uterus to the point that I can't carry any more children. So, even if we do get past this as a couple, we won't ever be able to have any more babies together."

The stricken look that overcame the boy's face made her try and pull away. Surely it meant he didn't want her anymore. After all, what man wanted a barren, lying, baby-killer woman for a girlfriend–let alone a wife?

"Hey, hey," Arthur murmured as he strengthened his embrace and kissed her forehead. "Merlin, it's terrible news. But you know what? We can make do. Maybe we won't have a baby, but that doesn't mean we won't ever have any little ones to love. My older brother, he's got a tyke already and is expecting another. My sister's just married too, so, I bet she'll be having a baby soon enough too. We can be the fun uncle and aunt they want to come and spend their weekends at. That'll be great, don't you think? And what about my little brother Bill and your brothers? Someday they'll have children too. We're going to have a real ball with all those lads and lasses."

Grinning then, Arthur said, "And you know the best part? We'll always get to return them to their parents after supper on Sundays."

Molly touched his cheek. "Merlin, I don't deserve you," she said. "You're too good for me. I've lied, killed your baby, and even told you we can't ever have any more and you _still_ want to be with me? You must be a real angel, Arthur Weasley."

"You still love me, don't you? Even though I got you up the duff and that's what put you in this mess."

Kissing him, Molly agreed, "I do love you. I love you _so_ much, but you deserve better than m–"

Arthur crashed his mouth into hers and effectively stopped her from insulting herself once again. When he finally pulled away, the set of his features was as serious as she'd ever seen them. "Molly, you're the girl for me. I don't want you to try and change my mind, okay? I _know_ you are and that's why–" He pulled away then, hand disappearing into his robe.

Gasping, Molly shook her head. "No! Oh _Arthur_!"

A simple gold eternity knot ring shined against the red velvet box it resided in.

"Marry me, Molly," the boy pleaded. "I love you and I swear I always will–no matter what."

Hesitantly, Molly took the ring from its box and slipped it on the hand with her promise ring. Staring at the contrasting gold and silver bands, she lunged forward and brought her fiancé into a deep embrace.

This was better than she could have ever hoped for. Not only could Arthur see past her vile act, he could still imagine a future for them as a couple. Molly knew even now that they were engaged, everything would not be easy, but because they'd made it past this, Molly was certain they could make it through everything else as well.


	3. Finding a Niche

"Isn't it enough for you that you kept your pregnancy a secret from him and aborted his baby, Molly? Trapping him into a marriage that will never produce anything seems quite cruel when it's so clear he wants children," Molly's mother chided as she continued cooking a pie for who knew what reason–likely because her father had asked for one, as usually was the case.

"It really would be best, I think, if you broke things off while you still have a chance and picked up a lucrative hobby and contented yourself with that. Breeding kneazles and selling them I hear is quite profitable," her mother suggested.

The middle age woman reached for the pie pan to put the cherry filling in as she continued to chat about all the things Molly should do besides marry Arthur. "Or, better yet, Molly, you are quite good at knitting and sewing, you could work for the Secondhand Robe Shop! Just as your Aunt Muriel used to in her day. I bet you'd enjoy it there. You'd get to hear gossip all day from the witches and wizards coming in and just think of the fun you could have making things pretty again!

"Oh, this might also interest you! I remember a year or so ago I read a nice little engagement announcement in the paper about this man and woman, who told how they met through her work. He was a widower with children and she was sweet on his little boys when they came to her workplace and, eventually, he asked her on a date and then he proposed a short time later! I'm sure by now they must be happily wed. If you let poor Arthur go to find a more appropriate wife, you might have the same luck, Molly. It's not as if you aren't a becoming girl and surely, with your skills with children, you could woo a widower into marrying you by being kind to his children."

Uncurling and curling her toes at the kitchen table where she painted them in preparation for the toe-less heels she'd be wearing with her wedding dress, Molly didn't stop the sneering pull of her lips as her hair was blocking the majority of her face. Her mother was a ridiculous woman, she noted for what had to be the hundredth time since she lost her child baring capabilities in her last year of school.

Even years later, her parents could not accept that Arthur still wanted to be with her after all that had happened. She didn't know if it was because they secretly blamed him for her misfortunes or if it was as her mother so blatantly told her, Arthur deserved a wife who wouldn't keep secrets from him and could give him children. Either way, Molly was done.

This had carried on far too long and it was time to make a decision and stick with it. If she didn't, Molly feared someday (soon) she'd end up believing what her mother and father said about her. Then, she'd no longer think she was good enough for Arthur and that he really _did_ deserve someone better than her.

(But of course he did, she had lied, she had killed his baby and ruined his chances of ever having another by accepting his engagement ring…)

"Have you ever considered, Mum, that he loves me more than he cares for having children?" Molly demanded with only the slightest quiver to her voice.

The clinking of dishes going into the sink was all the answer Molly got. When done with her toes, she cast a quick drying charm on them and slipped her shoes back on before she stood up from the table and looked around the sage room one last time.

This was the kitchen she'd grown up in. The one where she played tea party with her mother and brothers, where she learned how to make the perfect pie and learned the Prewett secret for their Pork Loins. This is where she and her father discussed politics before her troubles in seventh year and where she and her brothers ate all their breakfasts and some of their lunches in the summertime. This was the kitchen that had always felt like warmth and safety as a little girl when the rest of the world had seemed so frighteningly cold and dangerous.

But not anymore.

Clearing her throat, Molly declared airily, "Anyway, it doesn't really matter what you think. Arthur's feelings and opinion are all I care for. I just thought I'd let you know the wedding is next Saturday and you're welcome to come if you like, but if you don't want to… Well, that's your choice.

"I left Fabian and Gideon a portkey in their room so they could come if they want–please don't try and stop them. They're almost sixteen. They have the right to choose if they want to be a part of their devious, man-ruining sister's life."

Her mother spun around at that, spatula held high as a queen's scepter. However, Molly's mother was no queen of hers. She hadn't been for quite some time, just as her father was no longer the king of her world.

"Molly–" her mum started, a disapproving crease forming above her brows.

She didn't stick around for the rest of the scolding.

A pop later, Molly was back in the one room flat she and Arthur had been sharing in muggle Canterbury since they graduated from Hogwarts almost four years ago. Looking up from where he was seated at their secondhand table, Molly could have laughed at Arthur's appearance if it were any other day. His face was smudged black with mechanical oils and his red hair stood every which-way thanks to his dissection of a toy boat's motor.

"Molly!" he joyfully greeted.

She attempted to smile back, but in the end, started crying. Up in an instant, Arthur came to wrap his arms around her and kiss her cheek. "Oh, Mollywobbles, what happened?"

"I don't think my parents will be coming to the wedding. My mum still can't accept were together. It's like she can't even be _happy_ for me! Merlin, do you know what she said today? She said I was being _cruel_ to you by marrying you because you want children!" Molly sobbed into the arms of her fiancé.

Kissing her forehead and then her mouth, Arthur ran his thumbs in a soothing, circular motion on her upper arms. "If they can't see that we're in love, then they aren't worth it, okay? You have me, my family, your brothers and our friends on our side, okay? They're thrilled to see us get married! Think we're a perfect pair, they do!" he proclaimed brightly.

Blinking back her tears, Molly whispered, "How did I ever end up with such a kind, understanding man?"

"Well, how did I end up with such a devoted and beautiful girl?" Arthur countered sweetly.

Molly smiled. Arthur smiled back and, for a long while, the two just stood together as one, growing stronger as a couple even as they mourned for the loss of Molly's parents love and acceptance.

Just as Molly felt it time they turn their togetherness to their bed, she decided to take a step back. This was important and Arthur needed to know so. Meeting the eyes of her fiancé, she said, "Even if I can't give you children myself, someday, I swear we'll have one of our own."

Arthur gave her a nervous smile. "Of course we will," he agreed, but there was no conviction in his tone.

He didn't mean what he was saying, nor did Arthur seem to really believe her, but Molly could live with that as, someday, it would happen. When she proved him wrong, Arthur would then forever after trust her as implicitly as he did the air he breathed and the world he saw with his own two eyes.

And, if Molly were to be truly truthful with herself, she'd have made up for her one biggest, most awful mistake; the killing of their fist and now, only child.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Celestina Warbreck's crooning drifting in from the other room, where Horton and Robert must have left the wireless on after playing with it earlier, Molly all but slammed the potatoes down on the plates of her guests. Turning a scowl on her brothers, she waved the spoon at them in a wagging motion.

"Honestly, Gideon! Fabian!" she grumbled. "You're already aurors, did you _really_ need to join the Order as well? People are _dying_ just by showing sympathy to one side or another, what do you think will happen to _all_ of us if they _know_ you're a part of it?"

Wincing just a little at the shrill pitch of her voice, Fabian grinned at her. "We'll protect you, Molly-dear. That's what us Order members are supposed to do."

"Auntie Molly, can I have more roast?" Horton asked.

Smiling at the nine year old, Molly agreed, "Of course, love."

From where he was shoveling down his own dinner, the ten, soon to be eleven, year old Robert, asked, "If you're a part of the Order, does that mean you get to talk to Dumbledore and like, the Minster for Magic?"

"We do!" Gideon replied enthusiastically.

Freckled-face lighting up at the prospect, Robert proclaimed, "I wanna be a part of the Order!"

"No, you don't," Molly disagreed as she handed Horton a napkin to clean his messy face. "It's very dangerous," she informed him.

Pouting, the boy said, "But I wanna be a hero like Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon!"

Amused, Arthur looked up from the papers he had brought home from the Ministry and laughed. "That's a first, isn't boys? I don't think I've ever heard either of you called such. Pests, yes. Jokesters, of course. Foolhardy, most definitely, but _heroes–_ "

"We get it, thanks, Arthur, " Fabian broke in with a role of his eyes.

Gideon, waving his fork around, commented, "You know, Molly, the Order could actually use a woman like you."

"A homemaker and part time seamstress?" Molly questioned with disbelief as she finished putting more roast on Horton's plate.

Helping his brother along in his explanation, Fabian shook his head. "No, no, sister-dear–"

"–they need someone who can be a trustworthy _babysitter,_ " Gideon finished.

Arthur, from behind his paperwork, commented, "Molly _is_ a brilliant minder. Owen still thinks we're dousing Wilber with Calming Draughts to make him sleep through most of the night."

"You're quite the minder yourself, Arthur!" Molly shot back.

Fabian and Gideon shared wide smiles and high-fives. "So, are you in? A fair number of the Order members–core and not-core–need someone they trust to watch their children while they're busy at meetings and on missions."

"Do it, Aunt Molly! You'll be a hero!" Robert insisted, looking quite excited at the thought of having his favorite aunt and uncle becoming members of the Order.

Biting her lip, Molly muttered, "I don't–"

"Come on, Molly, Catherine's a member."

"She is _not_!" she decried. Surely her friend had better sense than that!

Reaching over, Gideon patted his sister's shoulder. "I thought you knew? I'm sorry, I hate that I had to be the one to break it to you…"

"Arthur?" Molly pleaded, looking to her husband for a decision.

Smiling, her husband gave her a wink as he tipped his head in the direction of the children. "We won't mind being used as a babysitting service. As you can see, my brother and sister take advantage of us enough as it is. What's it matter if we have a few more children running under foot?"

Sighing, Molly said, "I guess that's that, then. Tell all your Order members we're open for business."

"What a relief! Edgar Bones and his wife can now stop dropping their little brats off at the head quarters for unsuspecting members to get saddled with!" Fabian cheered.

"Should we assume that happened to you a couple more times than to your liking?" Arthur asked with a underlying note of amusement.

The twins shot Molly's husband a mock-angry glare before switching the subject to a story about a prank they pulled during their school days. She was glad for it. She never did like having her nephews hear about the war, but Fabian and Gideon were so busy these days she couldn't help but want to get as much information out of them about it as she could when she saw them.

What that meant, unfortunately, was sometimes the little ones ended up hearing more than she liked about the war. Settling in her seat next to Arthur, Molly watched wistfully as Robert and Horton were quickly swept up in the tale and forgot about the Order talk. If only she could forget so easily.

Molly nearly jumped from surprise when she felt Arthur's warm fingers wrap around her own. Meeting his gaze, Molly gave his fingers a squeeze. Maybe they'd never have children of their own, but their home would never be wanting for company at this rate.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Molly and Arthur were woken from their late night slumber by a pounding at their front door. Sitting up in bed, Molly rubbed at her bleary eyes and reached for a robe as Arthur put his slippers on and said, "I'll get it, dear."

Feeling around for a hair-tie in the dim room, Molly made a noncommittal noise as she found one in a drawer and tied her bed head away from her face. Walking out of her bedroom next, she was surprised by the people she saw standing in her doorway.

She vaguely recognized them, the man, she was certain had been a Hufflepuff a couple years below her while at Hogwarts, and the other…hadn't she been in Slytherin? How interesting. Molly hadn't realized Slytherins were being terrorized by Death Eaters too.

Well, no matter who they were (or what house they belong to during school), it was not they who concerned Molly so much as the little girl between them. She was shaking, February's cold nip slicing through her cotton nightie.

"–set _fire_ to our house!"

Ignoring what seemed to be quite a sordid tale, Molly declared, "In! In! Your little girl's going to catch her death out there!"

The three were more than happy to comply with command and in a matter of fifteen minutes, they were all seated in Molly and Arthur's cozy sitting room with hot tea in hand and a plate of biscuits sitting on the coffee table between them all.

Bouncing his daughter on his knee, the man–Ted Tonks–swore furiously. "And those-those _fiends_! As if it wasn't bad enough they torched our home! They had the gall to place an anti-apparition charm on it too! Wasn't trying to kill us with fire bloody enough?"

Grimly, Arthur said, "I suspect nothing beyond total annihilation will be enough for them."

Molly had to agree with her husband. The Death Eaters were truly devilish. Scaring the populous into their way of life was not enough for them, they wanted everyone who did not fit their vision, and disagreed with it, completely eradicated from existence. Eyes flickering to the little girl, Molly almost sighed out right. Her little head was drooping, even as she struggled to keep her eyes open and alert.

"Here, your daughter's falling asleep where she's sitting. We have an extra room Arthur's nephews use when they visit, why don't I lay her down in there for you?" Molly offered as she got up from her seat.

The parents' faces took on uncertain looks–as if they didn't want to be parted with their child just yet. Molly thought she understood, but couldn't be certain. Nonetheless, though, she pressed a little more. "Poor thing has been through enough tonight, don't you think? Making her listen to this scary talk where her parents curse and demand the death of others doesn't seem right to me…"

"Okay," the woman, Andromeda, agreed as she reached for her little girl. "Nymphadora, love, Missis Weasley is going to put you to bed in the other room, alright?"

Rubbing at her eyes, the little girl wrapped her arms around her mother's neck and sighed contentedly. "Okay, Mummy. You an' Daddy'll come sleep with me soon, though, right?"

"That's right, pumpkin," Ted agreed as he gave his daughter's cheek a kiss.

Giggling, the little girl pulled away from her parents and with an implicit trust all young children seemed to have, Nymphadora offered herself fully to Molly for protection and care.

Accepting the child into her arms, Molly soaked in the fruity scent of the little girl's shampoo buried beneath the smell of smoke and soot. She'd always wanted a little girl…

Not letting herself dwell on the fact, she took Nymphadora to the bathroom first. "Do you have to use the loo, sweetheart?" she asked.

"Yeah," the child agreed. Slipping easily from her arms, the child did not have any shame in relieving herself in front of Molly before hopping off the loo to use the foot stool they kept by the sink for Arthur's sister's son who wasn't yet four. When done, Nymphadora demanded to be picked up once again.

Obliging, Molly took her to her nephews' bedroom and laid Nymphadora down beneath the the sheets and quilts.

Tucking the cover around her, she asked the child, "Seeing as you don't have any dollies or stuffed animals with you, would you like to have one of my nephews'?"

"Uh-huh," Nymphadora agreed eagerly. "Do you got a monkey? I like those. Daddy reads me a book about ones that jump on the bed."

Smiling, Molly was happy to say, "I do have a monkey!" Reaching for the smiling creature, she handed it to Nymphadora. "There you are, dear."

"Thank you, Missis Weasley," the little girl yawned. "I like his curly tail."

Petting back the girl's hair, Molly told her, "You know, that used to be my oldest nephew's favorite toy. But he's too old for it now that he's gone off to Hogwarts. Would you like to keep him?"

"For forever?" the girl asked.

Molly nodded. "Yes, for forever."

Cuddling it close, the child showed herself to be extraordinary as her hair changed from its brown curls to a jubilant, bubblegum pink. "Thank you Missis Weasley!" the girl exclaimed.

Shaking off her surprise, she kissed the girl's forehead. "You're welcome, dear. Sleep tight."

Snuggling down with her new monkey, the child did just that.

Watching her a moment, Molly was awed even further when the girl's hair took on a tranquil blue tone. It was a curious sight, she had to admit, but it must have been even more stunning to her parents the first time she did it.

"Has she settled down alright?" a voice from behind asked.

Covering her heart, Molly whirled around to see Ted standing in the doorway. "Yes, she has," she answered. "Nymphadora went right to sleep after I gave her a toy to cuddle."

"That's my girl," the man grinned. Then, face taking on a more serious appearance, he thanked Molly. "Thank you for stepping in when you did. You were right to say it wasn't good for her to be hearing us talk like that. Half-asleep or not, we're trying to raise her to be better than that."

Smiling at him, Molly dipped her head in acknowledgement. "It was no trouble. And Ted? If you need a place to stay for a couple days as you figure out where you're going to be doing next, our home's open to you and your family. It always will be. Arthur and I like to help where we can."

The man's shoulders sank with relief. "We'd be very grateful if we could, Molly."

"It'll be nice having a little girl around for a day or two, Arthur's siblings only have boys and my brothers don't look to be having any children anytime soon."

Chucking, Ted remarked, "You might be quite surprised by how very similar those boys and my daughter will be."

Molly just grinned back as she made her way back to the hall. "Even so, I think it will be enjoyable," she said. "Here, let's go back to the living room and I'll fix you both up with something a little stronger than tea. I'm sure you could use it to settle your nerves before you go to sleep."

-v-v-v-v-v-

The blonde woman looked a little frenzied as her baby yammered in the crook of her arm, but Molly knew, even so, she was a capable witch and the perfect choice to help in tonight's mission, a raid on a known Death Eater gathering place.

"Are you sure you don't mind watching both Eddie _and_ the twins? I'm sure I could get my sister-in-law to at least watch the baby. I know Marlene's visiting her friend, Lily, but she'd understand if I told her Dumbledore _himself_ asked me to go on this raid…" the older woman chattered nervously.

Hearing the woman's twins, Tamara and Todd, laughing in the background with Arthur as he introduced the duo to a muggle children's game, Molly knew they'd be more than fine, they'd do splendidly this evening. The children seemed in much higher spirits than the last time she saw them and Eddie seemed to have outgrown his colic. However, she knew that it was not the children that were the real problem here. Bethany McKinnon was scared for tonight. She'd just lost her husband a little more than four months ago and now she was being asked to go on a mission that was almost identical to the one that had killed her husband.

Yet Molly knew what Bethany feared was not her death, but what would happen to her children if she died tonight. It was a reasonable fear as well, Molly had to admit. The Bethany's parents were also a couple years dead from a Death Eater attack on the family's broom shop. While Bethany's husband's parents and sister were still alive, they were all quite vocal in who they supported in the war and could just as easily die any day now. The same as Bethany.

Molly liked to think if they all died, the Order would find a safe place for the children to go. She knew she'd take them in a heartbeat. Surely that meant others would be just as willing to as well. After all, Tamara, Todd and Eddie were the children of the men and women who so valiantly put their lives at risk for the continuation of their world as it was.

"We'll be fine, Bethany," Molly answered as she gently took the baby from her.

Eddie began to sniffle at that, but with a bit of shushing, he calmed down easily enough and turned instead to playing with her red hair. Reaching out with her free hand, Molly took hold of Bethany's and told her confidently, "You'll be successful tonight, you hear me? Dumbledore wouldn't put you on a raid he didn't feel good about. He knows how much your children need you."

Smiling back at her, the blonde nodded. "You're right, Molly. As you always are."

"It's no trouble, dear. I know how bad the nerves can get–I'm a right wreck when Fabian and Gideon go off on missions."

"Missus Molly! Missus Molly! Mister Arthur said you had biscuits we could eat, can I have one?" Todd demanded excitedly as he tugged at her skirts.

Sharing a look with Bethany, the two grinned as the blonde wagged a finger at her son. "Todd McKinnon! What do we say when we want something?"

Huffing loudly, the tiny boy rubbed at his eye and grumbled, "Missus Molly, can I _please_ have a biscuit?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Molly agreed with a pat to his dark hair.

Reaching out, she took the boy's mother in a one armed hug. "Good luck, Bethany."

"Thank you, Molly."

With that, the woman was gone, leaving Molly to close the door and offer Todd a hand. "I made chocolate chip and butterscotch, which would you prefer?"

"Butterscotch!" the boy happily declared with a whoop.

Letting the needs of the children overtake everything else, Molly all but held her breath the whole night and only relaxed when a tired, but proud looking Bethany showed up at her door the next morning with her arms open for her children.

Relieved to see the broken family reunited, Molly had settled into the arms of her loving husband and hoped that some day, she wouldn't have to give a child back to its family because it would be _her's (_ and Arthur's) child and no one else's.


	4. Consoling Fraught Hearts

It was a beautiful funeral, Molly thought as she listened to the McKinnon's pastor come to a close on his eulogy about not forgetting these brave fighters and victims of these dark times. When the small band hired for the funeral began their somber, farewell tune, she got up like the rest of the many mourners and followed behind her husband and brothers to join the line headed toward the caskets. While waiting, she stared at the coffins the McKinnons' laid in. They were a rainbow of hues, a stately mahogany for Edith and Jack McKinnon's coffins, a warm, yellow oak for their daughter, Marlene, and daughter-in-law, Bethany, and for the children a soft ash that was just a shade off from white. It was rather fitting, Molly thought, that the youngest ones caskets should be such a color. White was so often connected with things like purity and innocence and those children, sweet little Todd, kind, strong Tamara and lively baby Eddie were just that, innocent.

The last of the funerals attendees were finally getting to their feet, with it, the crying that had been muffled before by a loved one's shoulders was now loud and clear. The anguish in the sobs made Molly's own eyes well with tears. It was especially at times like these that made Molly began to wonder about her part in the war, Arthur's and her brothers'. Seeing Order members fall right and left made her all the more scared for her brothers, made her wonder when she'd be the one who had to plan a funeral. The thought scared her so much she could never dwell on it for more than a few minutes at a time.

She was certain, though, if her brothers did die before this war was over, she would make sure she fulfilled their wish of having charmed water-squirting flowers pinned to their dress-robes. That way, all those that went to pay their respects to the twins would get a blast of water to the face and be reminded one last time of what kind of men her brothers truly were: light-hearted, friendly souls.

Incapable of thinking of Fabian and Gideon's possible funeral any longer, Molly moved on to the next most common question she had for herself while attending the funerals of Order members: her role within the Order. Couldn't she be of more use to them by being one of the brave witches who went out and fought? Who protected families, like the McKinnons, from being blindsided by attacks from vengeful, bloodthirsty Death Eaters in the middle of the night?

Molly then remembered the time she asked Arthur what he thought about her taking a more offensive role in the war. He had told her as much as it might sooth her to go and fight, to not to, because she was important to those who came to their home. Order members needed a trustworthy minder; one they didn't have to fret about being a Death Eater sympathizer and one they didn't have to fear would abandon their children and run in an attack.

Those points alone were excellent reasons for her to not join the fray, but then Arthur had added in the fact their home was also sanctuary to families chased from theirs by Death Eater attacks, in-between places for those on the run, or on their way into hiding, to stay and rest as they made and finalized their plans for their futures.

It was these reasons that always swayed Molly into continuing her role as the minder for the Order. Perhaps she didn't use her Gryffindor courage to fight the Death Eaters directly like her brothers, but she certainly used it each and every time she agreed to house targets of You-Know-Who. It took bravery in itself to constantly allow her home to be used as a kind of halfway house and congregation place for Order activity.

(Or so she had been told by many who came through her doors).

Coming to a halt once more as the line toward the coffins stopped its forward motion, Molly turned her head at the sound of a particularly loud whimper. Down a row of chairs to her left was a small collection of people, four men and a woman. The woman kept sniveling into her sleeves, unable to stop her tears despite the way one of the men kept telling to just take a big breath. Feeling a pang in her heart at the sight, Molly pulled her handkerchief out of her purse and left the line of mourners to approach the group.

"Here, dear," she said, holding out the little bit of white cloth to the pretty young woman, who, upon closer inspection, really didn't look like she could be more than a year or two out of Hogwarts.

Staring at it for a moment, the young woman started, "No, it's o-"

"I insist," Molly cut in. "You're going to ruing your robe, crying into it like that." Sighing softly, she added quieter, "You'll likely have to wear it a few more times before this war is over, you know."

Finally taking it, the young woman gave Molly a wobbly smile. "Thank you…"

"Molly. You're welcome…"

"Lily."

Nodding, Molly reached out and gave Lily's hand a gentle squeeze before turning around to join her watching husband and brothers.

Taking her hand, Arthur asked, "Everything alright?"

"Yes," Molly said, "She just didn't have a handkerchief."

And with that, Molly gave no more thought to the group as she went to pay her respect to the children she once cared for and the rest of the MicKinnon family.

-v-v-v-v-v-

Molly had to shake her head as she watched the man battle with his daughter. The girl, an impressively tall specimen for ten, was arguing with her father very heatedly. Humming a little ditty beneath her breath, Molly kept bouncing the dozing toddler in her arms and hoped the man could find a way to calm his daughter on his own.

It really was a shame there was no mother in the picture, Molly thought. The girl could use a strong female figure–her manners were atrocious and she had a mouth on her that, if she were Molly's daughter, she'd get a Scourgify for. However, Mimi was not Molly's daughter (and the girl should count her blessings for that!)

As the man, Benjy Fenwick, started yelling, Molly knew it was time to step into the fray. A shouting-match would wake the little boy from his nap and Molly knew if Junior saw that his father was leaving, he'd join his sister in the fight for their father to stay with his own special weapon–tears.

Molly was _not_ going to try and sooth a distraught toddler while Mimi continued to rage after she and Junior lost their fight to keep their father with them. The first time it happened had been enough for her.

Laying the toddler down on the drawing room's couch, she arranged Junior so if he decided to roll over, he'd not fall off the couch, and cast a quick Silencing Charm on him and approached the fighting pair. Tapping her wand against her cheek, she interrupted, "What is it that you two are having a row about today?"

The girl sent her a mulish glare. "Dad _said_ there'd be no more missions after the last one, but look where we are!" she snapped, gesturing to her spot on the threshold of Molly's home.

Making a noise of understanding, the woman raised an eyebrow at Fenwick and asked, "Did you _really_ tell her that?"

"I-" he frowned, then, his shoulders slumped. "Maybe?" he admitted, looking terribly pathetic and sheepish.

Molly made a tsking noise and remarked, "I bet you're regretting that now, aren't you, Fenwick?"

"Hey, now," he grumbled, eyes flashing in a way that his daughter's often did when annoyed.

Carefully maneuvering her way between the pair, she told the inept father, "You shouldn't lie to your daughter like you do. It leads to the very trouble you are now in. I'm also sure whoever you're working with today is getting annoyed with you for holding them up at this point."

Fenwick flushed and opened his mouth. Molly didn't let him speak as she grabbed the edge of her home's door and said, "There's no more time for chit-chat, get moving!" And with that, she slammed the door shut.

"No!" Mimi shrieked. "Dad! No, Dad!" the girl yelled, shoving past Molly and re-opening the door. However, her father was already long gone.

Turning around, the girl did not even bother with closing it as she leveled Molly with her most hateful glare. "You did that on purpose!" Mimi said.

Molly sighed. "Sweetheart, what your father does… It's not something you can stop–no more than I can keep my brothers from going on missions myself."

"But he _promised_!" the ten year old insisted.

She understood. Truly she did. But Molly also understood how important Fenwick was to the Order. "I know, I know," Molly murmured as she took the girl's hand and brought her close to pet her hair.

Instead of rejecting her touch, like she often did, Mimi pressed her face into Molly's shoulder and hiccuped, "H-He's a real _asshole_ , isn't he? He told me and Junior right to our faces he wasn't going on anymore missions after last time when he got hurt, but here we fucking are again!"

Clutching the girl tightly, as she tried to make her feel how sorry she was for her less than stellar father, Molly kept consistent in her home's rules. "No cursing, sweetheart."

"Sorry," she mumbled into Molly's front. Fingers twinning in the fabric of her blouse, Mimi asked, "Why's Dad keep going off on missions? He knows Mum's gone and never coming back and that Grandpa's too bloo–darn old to be taking care of Junior on his own and I have _Hogwarts_ to go to next year!"

Closing her eyes, Molly took a slow breath to keep her tears at bay. She didn't know why Fenwick would risk his life when it put his children in such great danger, because unlike Catherine and her husband, unlike Andromeda and Ted, unlike Edgar and his wife, he did not have much in the way of family (or friends, for that matter). His wife had left him when their daughter had had a particularly frightening episode of accidental magic after her brother was born and he only had his ever-aging father left for family.

To Molly, it looked like he just wanted someone to kill him and she knew that it really was just a matter of time before he got his wish. She couldn't tell that to the girl, though. It was too cruel a thing to do to someone so young and Molly never had abided with crushing the spirits of youth. To grow up strong, they needed to feel that they were loved–no matter what the truth may be.

Opening her eyes, Molly kissed the top of Mimi's head. Slowly, with a thick voice, she answered, "He thinks he's doing more to help you and your brother by being on the front lines than by being here with you."

"Well, that's idiotic. There are tons of blokes and ladies who want to fight that don't have children," the ten year old muttered unhappily.

Molly pulled the girl away and met her brown-eyed gaze. "Sweetheart, do you know that those people you're talking about are barely older than you?" she questioned and, with a sudden dawning of an idea, Molly continued on without waiting for an answer from Mimi. Moll had reason for the girl why her father had to go and she needed to hear it through.

"Some of them just finished Hogwarts, others are only a few years past, but no matter what, they are all so _young._ They've hardly lived, but they're already willing to give it up if it means others will get to see another day and live in a happier, safer world.

"Now, I'm sure you understand why your dad leaves you here, right? It's because you and your brother need someone to take care of you and watch out for you because you're just _children_. Those 'blokes and ladies' you talk about, to many of the Order members who are a little older and have children of their own, see them for what they are: _bigger_ children. They look at their children, and they look at them, and they can see just how young they truly are. The older Order members want to save as many of them from death as they can.

"What that means is, though, they have to risk their own lives all the more. It means they have to put themselves in more danger and hope that their children will understand when they are older why they left them orphans. They have to plead and pray to all the powers bigger than themselves that you all will understand they had to die so someone else, someone hardly any older than you, could live and grow up and experience all the joys and pains of life as they had."

Searching the narrow, worry and fear wrought face of the girl, Molly squeezed Mimi's shoulders and asked, "Do you get why your father leaves now? If he didn't, it could be a girl, barely older than seventeen, out there dying instead. Would you rather she, a girl who's hardly lived die, or your father, who's twice her age and seen and done so much more? Or better yet, do you think your father would want _her_ to die over him?"

"…No. Dad wouldn't want her to die," Mimi replied after a long, drawn out sigh.

Molly nodded. "Yes, you're right. It seems you understand. That's good, I'd be worried if you think he'd let a young girl die."

Letting her go, Molly smoothed back Mimi's mused hair and told her, "And sweetheart? If anything happens to your father, I want you to know you and your brother can always come here–no matter what."

"Thanks, Missus Molly," the girl said, a smile coming to her lips.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"Catherine?"

Entering the darkened bedroom, Molly had to strain her eyes to see her old school friend. She was in the middle of her bed, rocking in place, body bowed.

Turning on the lights with a swish of her wand, Molly moved a little closer, calling once again, "Catherine?

Looking up from her knees, Catherine whispered, "They wouldn't even let me look at it."

Approaching the bed slowly, Molly crawled across it to be at her friend's side. "I know," Molly whispered, taking Catherine into her arms for a hug.

Settling her damp cheek against Molly's shoulder, Catherine mumbled, "I didn't even _know_ and now…they're gone. I never even got see them."

Feeling her heart break for Catherine, Molly knew she couldn't keep the gender a secret, even if Gerald, Catherine's husband, thought it was best for she didn't know just yet. "You had a beautiful girl, Catherine. She was very, very tiny, I hear. Gerald said she had dark hair, like him, too."

Pulling away slightly, Catherine met Molly's gaze. "A little girl? It was a little girl?" she whimpered, sounding both heartbroken and awed.

"Yes," Molly answered. "The baby was a girl."

Beginning to tremble, Catherine gave a jagged little giggle. "My mother always used to say she couldn't wait until she had a granddaughter to dress in all my old clothes and give every kind of doll to. Now, that chance is gone forever and she'll never get another."

Molly felt her heart rate pick up. Was Catherine barren? Like her? No one had mentioned…

"You're–You're–" she stuttered.

Catherine seemed to understand instantly as she shook her head. "No," she said, "but I'm never going to have another baby. It was bad enough I never knew I was even _pregnant._ Just imagining the possibility of losing another–one I _know_ I'm carrying, for that matter, makes me so upset I've contemplated jumping out the window just because of it."

While slightly alarmed by what her friend was saying, Molly chose not to dwell on it. Catherine had a flair for the dramatics, after all. Even if she was telling the truth, Catherine's mother and Gerald would here with her until she was better. They'd make sure Catherine didn't do anything as awful as jump out her window.

Besides, Molly was more worried about what else her friend was saying. It just didn't seem right to Molly, giving up on children altogether because of something like this. Catherine hadn't even _known_ she was pregnant. If Catherine had, there was no way she would have been going on Order missions. If she had known, she would have stayed home, decorated her daughter's nursery and spent the rest of her free hours knitting all kinds of baby clothes for her little girl. If Catherine had known, she would have carried her baby to term and had a healthy, lively little girl.

Catherine could still have all those things _now_. This one was gone, yes, but she was still capable of having another–a dozen more, if she wanted. Molly wouldn't dare suggest Catherine try for another right away, but she would remind her that there could be another, that this one didn't have to be her last.

Squeezing her friend close, Molly said, "I understand you're heartsick right now, but don't–"

"No! Don't say what I think you're about to, Molly Weasley. I can't face heartbreak like this again. I will _not_ have another baby. I can't do it. This is just too hard. "

Molly still wanted to argue, she wanted to convince Catherine that she was making a mistake and maybe, just maybe, remind her that other woman would _kill_ to be able to have another baby like she could. But Molly didn't. Instead, she kissed Catherine's forehead and whispered, "Okay."

Right now, Catherine needed comfort and support (something Molly hadn't gotten after she killed her baby), not someone trying to change her mind about something that could just be the grief talking.

"Thank you, Molly," Catherine said, giving her a watery smile.

"You're welcome."

-v-v-v-v-v-

Absently stirring a spoon in her afternoon tea, Molly wasn't even aware it'd long grown cold as she read the extensive, exclusive interview with Celestina Warbeck _Witch Weekly_ included in their latest issue. Molly just loved Celestina and could never get enough about her life and her music. The upcoming tour she mentioned was especially interesting and she was wondering when she could buy tickets for it when–

"AHHH!"

Jumping from the noise, Molly let out a shout of her own when her tea spilled across the glossy pages of her tabloid. Quickly righting it with a spell, she stood up and stuffed her wand back in the folds of her apron. Tying back her hair quickly in preparation for what she might find in the living room, Molly grumbled to herself, "This better not be just another screaming match…"

Walking into the room, she paused at the sight of a teary Wilber clutching a book on the floor, and Horton, scowling down at his young cousin. Putting her hands on her hips, she demanded, "What's going on in here?"

"He-He-" Wilber babbled.

Rolling his eyes in a terribly unrepentant way, Horton said, "Wilber's being a _baby_ and throwing a _tantrum_ just 'cause I won't read him _Toby the Toad's Great Bog Adventure_ for the fourth time today."

Molly gave an exasperated sigh. "Why not?" she asked. "It's not that long of a book."

"It's the _only_ book he ever wants me to read! I'm sick of stupid Toby and his dumb adventure in the bog!"

"Toby's not stupid! He's smart! He figured out how to pull Martin the Mole from the mud puddle when no one else could!" Wilber argued, hugging his book to his chest with all the might he had in his little body.

Pursing her lips, Molly tapped on her chin thoughtfully. Horton, no matter how bratty he was being, did have a point. _Toby the Toad's Great Bog Adventure_ was getting old and she was no more interested in reading it again to Wilber than he was. An idea coming to her, she smiled. "Boys," she said, "I have an idea."

"What is it, Aunt Molly?" Horton asked.

Smiling now a wide grin, Molly said, "Why don't we write our own adventure for Toby to go on? I'm sure he must be quite tired of going through the bog by now."

Horton crossed his arms. He didn't look terribly excited at the prospect of more Toby, but Wilber dropped his book in favor of tackling Molly with an exuberant hug. "That sounds so wicked! Can we?" he asked. "Please! Please! Please!"

Laughing, Molly swept the little boy into her arms and looked to Horton. "Well, Horton? Are you going to help us or not? Who knows, we might need someone to draw some trees and I hear you're quite good at making them."

Finally swayed, Horton joined her side and said, "Okay, I'll help."

Taking the pair back to the kitchen, Molly collected the children's art supplies from one of the cupboards she'd designated as the boys' long ago and returned to where Horton and Wilber were waiting at the breakfast bar. Setting out paper and quills, she asked them, "Where should Toby have his adventure?"

Sharing a look, the boys declared together, "Hogwarts."

Molly laughed. Of course they would pick Hogwarts, Horton would be joining his brother there next year and soon, Wilber would be running through the castle's halls just like his cousins. It was amazing, Molly thought, how quickly children grew up. She remembered the first time she'd held Wilber, he'd been so tiny and pink then…

And now, he was just as gangly as his father and as freckle-faced as every Weasley before him.

Time flew by, but it was precious moments like these Molly made an effort to remember. Especially in these dark days, when joy was fleeting and heartache just around the corner.


	5. When All Is(n't) Fair in Love and War

Molly was woken from slumber when the new wards on her and Arthur's floo system alerted her that someone had come into their home. Sitting up in bed, she shook Arthur's shoulder as she reached for her wand in the nightstand beside her bed.

"Get up," she hissed at her husband.

Awake now, Arthur all but rolled out of bed and into his slippers, wand clutched in one fist. "Who do you think it is?" he asked her.

Molly shrugged. "We aren't expecting anyone and the Order usually calls before they bring somone over to let us know–even if it's just five minutes ahead of time."

Nodding, Arthur said, "I think we'll have to investigate."

Stomach doing a flip, Molly agreed, "Yes, we will."

A few minutes later, they use the shadows cast by the kitchen doorway to their advantage as they peek inside. Molly lets out a whoosh of air. It was just Mimi and Junior Fenwick who came through the floo. The two were dressed in their jim-jams, just standing in the middle of the room; Mimi looked lost and Junior, sleepy. Though, why they were here was entirely unknown to her. Putting a hand on Arthur's arm, Molly indicated she'd be the one to go in and question the children.

Stepping into the room, she smiled at the girl and toddler. "Hullo, dears," she greeted.

Mimi's eyes found hers.

"What's brought you by so late?"

Blinking her eyes rapidly now, Mimi whispered, "I couldn't sleep at Grandpa's and Dad is at St. Mungo's again."

Molly frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that, dear," she said.

Picking her brother up and hugging him like a teddy, Mimi whispered, "I'm scared he's gonna die."

"Oh Mimi…"

Tears spilling down her cheeks, the girl whispered, "I go off to Hogwarts next week. I can't leave Junior with Grandpa all alone. He gave Junior a cup of wine instead of grape juice last night at dinner. Grandpa's damn near blind. What if he does it again, Missus Molly? What if he gives him something even _worse_ than wine? Junior could die like Dad might."

Molly's heart broke for the girl.

"Come here," she said.

Seconds later, she was hugging the girl and her little brother. Brushing a hand through Mimi's bed-head, Molly said nothing for a long while. Finally, she suggested, "Why don't I take you back to your grandfather's? I'm sure he must be looking for you two by now. Perhaps, while I'm there, I can convince him to let me watch Junior after you go to Hogwarts if your dad isn't out of St. Mungo's by then. We won't mention the wine incident, but I'll let him know you're concerned that something could happen because his vision is poor."

"He's really stubborn," Mimi told her.

Molly smiled. "Ah, but so am I."

Mimi smiled back as Junior began to fuss from being caught in their embrace for so long. Holding her hands out for the toddler, Molly was pleased by how easily the girl relinquished him to her. The first time she'd met the siblings, almost two years ago now, Mimi had been very insistent that only she and her father could hold him. It pleased Molly immensely that Mimi now trusted her with her little brother and even more than that, to come to her when she was scared or had a problem.

Now with Junior in her grip, Molly made a few funny faces at him to clear away his disgruntled expression. When he began to giggle, she laughed in triumph. Moving the little boy to one hip, she offered her now free hand to Mimi and looked back to where Arthur was hovering in the doorway. "We'll be back, my love," she promised.

"I'll be waiting," Arthur replied.

-v-v-v-

Three hours later, Molly returned to her find her husband slumped in his chair at the breakfast bar. Shaking her head fondly, she gently pinched his cheeks until he opened his eyes.

Chuckling at how his eyes fluttered wide upon recognizing her, Molly teased, "Why, hello sleepyhead."

"How'd it go?" he asked as he leaned forward for a kiss.

"Well, Benjy's expected to be released from St. Mungo's the day after Mimi leaves for Hogwarts. It did take some convincing, but I'll be accompanying them to the station to see Mimi off. After that, Mister Fenwick Senior will say goodbye to Junior and he'll be spending the rest of day and that night with us. In the morning, after Fenwick Senior has retrieved Benjy, I'll drop off Junior and we'll just have to hope everything works out for the best with them after that."

Nodding, Arthur slipped off his chair and brought Molly close for a tight embrace. "I love you, Molly. The way you're willing to go above and beyond for the children just astounds me."

"It's the least I can do," Molly deflect, tacking on mentally to her reply, ' _after how I failed you and our child_ '.

-v-v-v-v-v-

"And _he_ said–"

A resounding knock cut off the rest of the girl's sentence and made Molly set aside the frosting she'd been making. Giving Hestia an apologetic smile upon her pausing in her sorting of the candies for the cupcakes, Molly asked, "Shall I go see who's at the door while you continue separating the gummies?"

"Yes, Missus Molly," the girl agreed with a grin. Molly then waited a moment longer to watch her do so. Hestia waisted no time in complying and even returned to her task with a gusto that all seven-year-olds seemed to have when it came to candy.

Shaking her head in amusement, Molly wiped her hands down her apron before opening her home's door.

The man on the other side was small, compact and looked dead-tired on his feet. Frowning, Molly greeted, "Hello?"

Giving a smile of his own that didn't reach his eyes, the small man asked, "Are you Molly Weasley?"

"Yes, I am, and you are?" Molly returned politely as she came to settle herself more fully in the doorway of her and Arthur's townhouse. She had little Hestia in the other room to think about, after all. She was used to the odd visitor, but most of them came through her floo these days and only expected guests had the courtesy to come to her door anymore.

"Doug Mentis, Ma'am. I'm Dorothy Jones's brother?" he supplied, looking a little leery when he realized that Mentis had meant nothing to her.

Molly knew Dorothy, though. In fact, it was the petite woman's daughter in the next room!

"Oh, yes! Dorothy. I'm sorry, dear, but she's been called off on Order business. I only have her daughter here," Molly explained apologetically as she started to close the front door.

Side-stepping to keep his face in full view of her eyes, Doug hurriedly told Molly, "That's the thing, Ma'am. I'm here for Hestia. My wife and I were just visited by one of your lot to tell us my sister was captured by several Death Eaters right before her partner's eyes and declared missing because of it."

"Hestia's father…" she started.

The short man gave a sad shake of his head. "Missing himself, actually," he said.

"Oh Merlin, I'm sorry, Dorothy told me before, but I…"

"Yes, well, I can't say I blame you for forgetting. People _are_ disappearing left and right. Your Order members especially, I might add. May I please take Hestia, Missus Weasley? She should be with family, don't you agree?" Doug asked, that odd air coming back to his being.

This time, though, Molly recognized it. This man, Dorothy's brother, was bone-tired. He was exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. It was why she was uncomfortable, he barely had the energy to be standing right here, let alone give her a proper sense of who he was and his intentions.

"Of course! One moment…" Molly trailed off as she stepped back toward the kitchen. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called, "Hestia!"

"Yes, Missus Molly?" the girl inquired as she popped into view.

"Sweetheart, why don't you get your cloak? Your uncle has come to get you!" Molly enthused with false cheeriness.

The girl's face twisted with confusion. "Uncle Doug? But–"

"It's cold, Hestia, I'm sure he'll answer all your questions soon, so why don't you hurry on that cloak and I'm sure you two will be able to talk over a cuppa," Molly cut in as she saw the man from the corner of her eye begin to gulp on air.

"Why's Mum not getting me? Uncle Doug? Where's Mum? Why's it not her getting me?" Hestia demanded, crossing her arms and tucking her chin into her chest to intensify the glower she was currently wearing.

"Sw–"

Raising her bell-like voice to a dong, the child proclaimed, "This is like Papa all over," she complained. Hestia's mouth dropping open then. Her arms falling limply at her side, she began to shake. "No! No! She _can't_ be missing! She _can't_! She said she'd be _careful_ and _safe_!" Stomping her feet, Hestia threw her head back and started to scream.

"Hestia…" Doug whispered, brushing past Molly to get to his niece.

"Go away! Noooo!" the girl wailed, lashing out with all the strength contained in her small form.

"Shh, Hestia, shh…"

"I _want_ Mum!" Hestia sobbed.

Cradling her against him like she was two instead of seven, Doug whispered softly, "I know, I know."

Feeling quite useless standing by the open door, Molly offered, "Here, let me get her cloak for you. I'm sure your wife is waiting for you two."

"Thank you, Missus Weasley. I appreciate it," Doug replied with a wan smile.

Grabbing the cloak from the kitchen, where it was draped over one of the breakfast bar chairs, she returned to the living room where the two were still clinging to each other. Holding it out to the man, she said, "It's no trouble, and Mister Mentis?"

"Yes?"

"You're not an Order member, are you?" Molly asked, already envisioning him as another missing (dead) relative that little Hestia would never get to see.

"No," he answered, voice dark and angry.

Molly blinked and then, gave him an awkward smile. "Oh. That's–t's good to know she's not going to have to worry about losing you like she lost her mother and father," she floundered.

Standing up with Hestia still in his arms, Doug shook his head at her.

"Don't speak too soon, Missus Weasley. We're at war. I, my wife, or even Hestia here could end up dead any day now for no other reason than stepping out of our home for a loaf of bread. In fact, you or someone you love is in the very same predicament, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't say such ridiculous things in front of my niece."

Fighting down her indignation at his lecture, Molly showed him the door and said stiffly, "Goodbye, Mister Mentis."

"Goodbye, Missus Weasley," he returned.

-v-v-v-v-v-

When Molly had agreed to join the Order as a babysitter, she had never imagined her home would eventually need to be put under a _Fidelius Charm._ Though, she also never really expected it would become public knowledge that her and Arthur's townhouse was used as a sanctuary for Wizards, Witches, Squibs, and Muggles alike on the run from You-Know-Who. Nor could Molly have possibly foreseen just months ago she'd willingly allow the Order to host organized meetings in her living room.

But, Molly thought darkly, ' _T_ _hat was before it became personal…_ '

Arthur's parents had been buried a month and a half ago following their brutal murder at the hands of a group of Death Eaters in a battle near the Ministry. They hadn't even been _involved._ Cedrella had gone to meet Septimus for lunch at the Ministry and on their way back from lunch, they had been burned to ash by a stray fiendfyre. If a coworker of Septimus's hadn't seen the duo engulfed in the flames, they'd probably have been labeled as missing, presumed dead, instead of just dead as nothing had been left of the pair after the flames had been put out.

They didn't even capture any of the Death Eaters in the end; they'd all gotten _away._

Molly swore to herself if the Order couldn't capture them by the end of the war, she'd find the atrocious scum herself when it was over and put them in Azkaban for what they'd done to her husband's parents. The couple deserved to be avenged, Molly felt. They'd been great people with golden hearts and oh so _loved_. They'd been so good, so kind, accepting, and wonderful to just about everyone they met. Septimus and Cedrella hadn't deserved to die like they had, they had deserved more time with their children and grandchildren, a chance to go to sleep one night and never wake.

Not to die in a flash of all-consuming, searing pain followed by rattling nothingness.

Arranging yet another plate of baked goods for the men and women arguing in the other room, Molly sighed. She was so tired of listening to the yelling…

Deliberately dropping a biscuit she just plucked off the baking sheet back onto the pan, she made the decision to get away from the fighting for just a moment. Leaving the half-finished task behind her, Molly went toward her home's spare bedroom with the intention of checking in on Arthur's sleeping nephew and the sons of a new, ruddy-faced Order member Molly did not know the name of.

She paused between the second bedroom and the one she and Arthur shared. Her bedroom door was ajar. Reaching for her wand, she nudged the door open even further and slipped into the shadowed room.

" _Lumos,_ " she mouthed.

With the help of the dim light pouring out of the tip of her wand, Molly could see on her bed was one of the women who she'd watched come into her home tonight for the meeting. The woman's hands were covering her face, and her shoulders trembled ever so slightly.

Molly paused, fighting down the urge to go and wrap an arm around the younger woman. Molly had dealt with many grieving people over these last few years, from little toddlers and babies who did not know what was wrong, other than something (or rather, _someone)_ was missing, to wizards and witches well into their golden years who'd lost their wives and husbands when attacked so viciously in their homes by Death Eaters and their ilk.

The youngest usually accepted comfort without fuss, wanting someone to cling to and cuddle. The oldest accepted the platitudes and appreciated the smaller gestures, such as a cup of tea, or a warm hand on their back, however, those that fell somewhere in the middle were quite difficult to discern and you could just as easily find yourself holding the hand of someone as they cried as you could find yourself on the receiving end of brutal insults and maybe, if you were ever so unfortunate, a jinx or hex.

So, taking a breath, Molly swished the lights on dim in the room and called, "Dear?"

The woman lifted her tear-streaked face from her hands and turned around in confusion. But when she saw Molly, she gave a sheepish smile and stood up.

"Sorry, I–"

Molly waved away the apology. "No worries, dear, I was coming to check on the children when I noticed the door ajar. Do you mind some company? I was thinking I could put my laundry away, if you don't mind," Molly said as she pointed to the full basket sitting on the dresser.

The young woman sank back down on the bed with relieved look and nodded. "I don't mind," she whispered.

Smiling back at her, Molly made the decision to do it the muggle way as to let the young woman warm up to her and give her the chance to gather her courage and talk to Molly if she wanted to. Starting with her stockings and Arthur's knickers, Molly matched them together and piled them up on a clean spot of her dresser before opening the drawers and placing them inside. Moving on to shirts next, she sighed at how dingy the sleeves of Arthur's white shirts were. She considered using a brightening charm on it to make it look better, but decided against it.

They could take a nice little trip to Diagon Alley this weekend and pretend that everything was well and good instead of ill and bad. Maybe they could even see if Arthur's sister and her family would like to meet them at the Three Broomsticks for lunch. It'd be so nice to catch up with Viola and Gerard, they usually could only talk for a minute or two before she or he had to leave for some business or other when they dropped off their son, Wilber.

Using the vanity mirror attached to her dresser to catch a glimpse of the strangely familiar woman sitting on her bed, Molly noted how her shoulders slouched inward and her arms crossed over her middle like a barrier. Molly's own hand went to her middle at the feeling of phantom pains. She was pregnant, Molly realized.

"When's are you due?" she asked the young woman.

She looked up, bright green eyes startled. "How–" she began.

"I've seen enough pregnant women in my time to know the signs, dear," Molly broke in with an amused lilt to her lips.

The smile she got in reply was a beautiful one. "I guess you would. From what Fabian and Gideon say about you, you sounded like some sort of oracle."

Her heart gave a pang at the thought of her brothers, they'd been sent on an extended mission last week. She still wasn't sure if they'd be coming home soon, and Molly feared they never would. Eyes glossing with tears, she dropped her head briefly as she regained her composure. The young woman seemed to have noticed this and in a stumbling apology, murmured, "Merlin! Oh, I'm sorry…"

"It's okay, dear," Molly said as she turned around with a wide, almost painful grin on her face. "We're all affected by this war and worrying about someone by this point. I'm even going to go so far and say that's likely why you've hidden yourself away in here."

The young woman started to shake her head, but stopped. "Well, that's part of the reason," she agreed. "I'm sure you must have known the McKinnons–" she stopped, scrutinizing Molly with critical eyes. "Say, you're the one who gave me that handkerchief, aren't you?"

Molly gave the young woman a once over. She, who Molly now recalled was named Lily, was right. "Yes, I did," she said.

Lily smiled. "I really appreciated it," she said.

"You're welcome," Molly replied.

Nodding, Lily fiddled with her hem for a moment. "Molly, do you ever feel like everyone you know is dead or gone? Marlene was just the latest for me. I lost another girlfriend, Sabrina, nearly two years ago now, and Mary and her husband had to go into hiding shortly after the McKinnon family funeral because they were attacked by Death Eaters too."

Swallowing thickly, Molly whispered, "Yes, sometimes I feel like it's that way too." She then set aside the dress she'd been putting on a hanger and took a seat beside Lily. Gauging the young woman's weary features, Molly made the decision to offer her shoulder to Lily.

Lily, rubbing at her red eyes, accepted Molly's offer and laid her head gingerly on her shoulder. "Do you know what the worst part is?" she asked in a watery tone.

Stroking red hair that was more vibrant than her own, Molly sighed. "What, dear?" she inquired.

Pulling away, Lily said, "Honestly, I shouldn't be telling you this, but…" she trailed off, shrugging. "We should be celebrating that I'm going to be having a baby, but there's this _prophecy_ and You-Know-Who wants my baby dead because of it!"

Molly's hands flew to her mouth. "You-know-Who?" she gasped, terrified for Lily and her baby.

Face crumpling, she sobbed, "Yes!"

Pulling her into a fierce embrace, Molly began to rock back and forth with Lily. She didn't know why Lily had picked her to confined in, but now was not the time to turn her back on her. "What are you and your husband going to do?" she asked.

"Go into hiding, probably," Lily sniffled.

Molly squeezed her tighter. "I'm sure that must be very frightening for you, I can't imagine how I'd feel if Arthur and I had to go into hiding, and while pregnant to boot!" Pulling back, Molly cupped Lily's face in her hands and made the young woman meet her eyes. She might not fully understand why Lily chose her as her confidant, but she'd not be letting her down now."Lily, I know this is the first time we've truly spoken to each other in any length, but I promise I'll always be here for you from now on. If you want, you can write me anytime."

Lily's eyes watered and a shaky smile came to her lips. "Thank you, Molly. That's a kind offer and I think I will probably take you up on it at some point too. I don't really have anyone else to write to. There's my sister, but she's a muggle and wouldn't understand. Everyone else I know has more than enough problems of their own without me adding to them with mine…"

Ah, now Molly understood. Lily felt like she'd only be burdening those close to her if she told them about what was happening to her. Molly doubted those friends would be upset with Lily for sharing and said so. "Dear, everyone likes helping out a friend now and again. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to go over your problems with you in a letter."

Green eyes took on a miserable hue. "I haven't done that for Mary and we used to be best mates while in school," she mumbled.

"Oh sweetheart…" Molly clucked as she curled a lock of Lily's red hair behind her ear. "Don't beat yourself up about it, okay? Sometimes time gets away from us, sometimes people drift apart. It's not your fault and it isn't hers either. You both have had your own worries preoccupying you, is all. I'm sure she'd love to hear from you now. With all the time you might have if you do go into hiding, you'll be able to write hundreds of letters! I bet you'll be best mates again in no time!"

Lily gave a wet giggle. "You really are just as generous and kind as everyone says you are," Lily complimented. "I didn't think anybody could be so willing to help a near stranger, but…"

Molly gave a weak smile. "Well, it's the least I can do," she whispered. "I'm not really one for battle and I've always liked mothering others, I suppose."

She nodded. "I should – go, James is probably wondering where I wandered off to. I told him I was going to use the loo almost half an hour ago now."

"Of course, dear," Molly obligingly agreed. Suddenly, with a bit of surprise, she called after the woman just as she stepped out into the hall. "I'm sorry, but I can't recall your last name for the life of me…"

Green eyes danced with a laughing light as she flashed a smile. "It's Lily Potter," she answered.

She nodded. "It was nice talking to you again, Lily," Molly concluded as she got up from her bed to finish the laundry.

"Thank you for listening," Lily whispered before she went to join in on the ever-growing ruckus in the living room.

A few moments later, Molly remembered why it was she came down the hall outside her bedroom in the first place. She pulled her wand out from the folds of her apron and went to the spare bedroom. She cast a Silencing Charm on the door. ' _There,_ ' she thought, they wouldn't have any little ones getting woken up unduly tonight.


	6. Of Letters and Friends

People heading for the floo and door alike, Molly accepted the farewells tossed her way as she began the work of cleaning up her home after yet another Order meeting. Sighing as she stood up and straightened out her back, she wondered if she and Arthur should look into a new home. This little townhouse barely held her, her husband, and Arthur's nephews on a good day in the summer, but when there were Order members and their children running about as well? Or the other times throughout the year when families needed a place to stay between having their homes razed and finding a new one? Undetectable Extension Charms became a _must._ However, Molly was beginning to feel they weren't enough anymore and that it might be time for a move to a bigger home.

Maybe a house in the countryside would be nice; one with three or four bedrooms and another sitting room to use. At least then Robert and Horton could have their own room to share when they stayed over in the summer instead of having to share with little Wilber. But now was not the time to think about a new home. That'd be best discussed with Arthur a little later. _A_ _fter_ they finished cleaning up and opened a bottle of wine to relax.

Pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear, Molly went to collect a set of cups scattered on the coffee table when a shadow cast itself over her work. Looking up, she saw Lily Potter.

The poor woman was pale, making the shadows beneath her eyes all the more ghoulish. "Hello, Lily," Molly greeted kindly as she paused once again in her cleaning.

Fiddling a bit with her sweater's sleeve, Lily seemed to become someone much younger. She looked more a schoolgirl than a married woman to Molly, and knowing what she did from talking with her brothers, she even knew that was true. The poor girl was hardly twenty. When it became clear Lily would not be forthcoming in why she'd come up to her, Molly inquired, "Is there something you want, dear?"

Blinking, Lily gave a sheepish smile before taking a breath. "Seeing as this is going to be my and James's last Order meeting until You-Know-Who's gone, I wanted to say goodbye," she whispered. "You have been exceptionally kind to me these past couple months and I'm sorry I won't get to speak with you again until the war is over."

"Then you two chose going into hiding, then?" Molly questioned for clarity as she searched the younger woman's face.

"Yes," Lily replied, mouth quavering ever so slightly. "We'll be in hiding for who knows how long."

Molly's heart went out to her fellow woman. "Lily…" she said.

"Yes?"

"Just because we're saying goodbye doesn't mean you have to be a stranger, alright? Write me as much as you like and need, I'll be here, dear," she told her, hoping that Lily would accept her offer.

Green eyes shimmered with tears as the younger smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Molly, I think I'll be taking you up on that offer."

"Good, I look forward to hearing from you soon," Molly replied warmly before continuing to clean her home as Lily was taken away by the bespectacled man Molly recognized as her husband, James.

-v-v-v-v-v-

_Dear Molly,_

_We just went into hiding. It seems silly writing a letter to you when we've barely been here a day, but it's actually very frightening realizing that your life is in the hands of someone else and there's nothing you can do. I don't have much else to say, but I just felt the need to vent to someone besides James._

_Lily_

-v-v-

_Dear Lily,_

_It probably sounds a little juvenile, but instead of focusing on how frightening it is to be in hiding, why not think instead of all the things you'll get to do once you're out of it with your baby? Like taking a walk in Diagon Alley or going on holiday to the coast. I'm sure others have been telling you to keep your chin up, but really do try. You might be surprised by what it does for your spirits._

_Molly_

-v-v-

_Dear Molly,_

_I've tried to stay positive like you recommended, but it's been quite difficult as of late. James is antsy and agitated most of the time these days and, well, we had our worst row ever because of it. Sometimes, I can't even stand to look at him without wanting to scream. Do all couples go through times like these? Or just ones that can't ever get any space from one another?_

_Lily_

_P.S. Did I ever tell you that our baby is going to be a boy?_

-v-v-

_Dear Lily,_

_A boy! How lovely! Surely that's a good way to keep you and James busy? Planning his bedroom and all those lovely things. Have you thought of any names for the little one?_

_Now that we've covered that exciting news, let's go back to your concerns._

_Trying's half the battle, dear, so take pride in that small accomplishment and continue to focus on a better future as much as you can over the things you cannot change–like your current situation. And while I cannot say I've had the exact same fights with Arthur that you have had with James, we did have our biggest row ourselves not too long ago._

_I'm sure by this point you're aware of how many people we're losing left and right in the war and Dumbledore asked Arthur if he'd think about becoming an active member for missions and the like. He–thankfully–told Dumbledore he'd have to discuss it with me first. I love my husband, but he's not as much a fighter as some men I've seen and I was against it._

_Just like he's been against me joining the war too._

_After our argument about him becoming an active member, we didn't talk for almost two whole days. In the end, we agreed he could act as a sort of reserve member. One the Order may call upon when they're very desperate and no one else is available or capable to partake in a mission._

_So far, he's been called on to be a part of a rescue mission for a Muggleborn's family that was targeted because of the book their daughter is writing about the inheritance of magic in Muggles and magical folk alike. Somehow, Dumbledore got tipped off on the attack and he had Arthur go help evacuate the family and lay in wait for the Death Eaters afterwards to help other Order members capture them for interrogation._

_I was a mess the whole night. Not even Arthur's sister and my friend Catherine could help me calm down. But, in the end, he came home safe with little more than a few scratches from shattering glass. Since then, I have realized I'm very proud of Arthur. Not every man is so willing to help the cause like he has._

_What can be taken from this, I suppose, is that even if you two are fighting, do you still feel proud to have him for a husband and love him?_

_Molly_

_P.S. I sent along a pair of baby booties I knitted for your little boy._

-v-v-

_Dear Molly,_

_Thank you for the booties! They're adorable! We don't have any names yet, but I'm quite partial to Hank or Jerry. James wants a junior, but I bet I can persuade him away from it. I might be able to get him to settle on a different name, I think, if I tell him James can be the baby's middle name._

_I've also thought about what you said about feeling proud and loving James still, despite everything. I do love him. So much so that it hurts writing this as I know he's sitting in the living room getting pissed because he's so scared of what's going to happen to our son and us if You-know-Who isn't taken care of soon. I would try and sit with him now, too, but he'd only become more upset and accuse me of patronizing him and pick a fight with me by saying I don't understand what he's going through._

_Personally, I bet we're thinking much along the same line, but how do you convince a man of that when he just wants to brood all alone and pretend it's him alone against the world?_

_It does make me feel better, though, knowing that he feels so strongly about our baby and me. I know not everyone's husband does. Like for my sister, I doubt her husband is nearly so loving, the first time I met him, he looked me up and down with my sister right in the room! It was awful and I hate it, but I bet he must do the same to other women as well. I write my sister quite a bit, but she doesn't write back. Well, that's not quite true. She does, just not very often._

_Sometimes I wonder if magic is really all that broke my sister and I apart. She has always hated that I'm a witch, but I've been trying for years to make sure she knows I love her, and that it doesn't matter to me that she's a muggle._

_It doesn't work, though. Petunia still hates me and I'm sure she'll hate my son too just because he's a wizard and her baby won't be (she's pregnant too, I found out not long ago, what are the odds)! Sometimes I just don't know what to do. I haven't the slightest idea how to prove to her how much I love her and want to talk to her like we used to when we were girls._

_Thank you again, Molly, for writing me. It really helps having another woman who cares to talk to._

_Lily_

-v-v-

_Dear Lily,_

_I'm happy to hear you like the booties! If you need anything else, just let me know. I'm quite good at knitting and would be happy to make you anything else you might want. And Hank or Jerry, hm? Those are lovely names. I remember when I was young I was quite fond of Bill or Percy for a boy, if I ever had one._

_As for James and you, I'm very relieved to hear you know you love him. Sometimes, I've seen young women get confused after they marry and realize they didn't love their husband or their husband didn't love them like they thought they did. I fear that this may be the case for your sister's husband and that's very unfortunate for her. I hope she has a friend to talk to if she doesn't want to talk with you._

_Does she know you're in hiding?_

_I'm also sad to hear that you and she don't get along as well as you want to. Are you sure it's the muggle and witch issue that has caused the rift?_

_Or is there a possibility that there is more to it? I know from talking with some other Muggleborns that their parents became extremely fascinated in the magical world after they learned their child was to be a part of it. So much so for one wizard, his little brother told him that he wanted his brother to go away forever so his mum and dad would stop talking about him all the time._

_Either way, I do sympathize with you, Lily. It's not exactly the same, but my parents and I have not gotten along well at all for quite some time. They think I was wrong to have married Arthur, because I cannot have children and he had expressed an interest in having some to my parents. With how things are going, I don't imagine I'll be there at their death beds. It's quite unfortunate, I'd say, because I was very close with my father when I was a little girl._

_It's no trouble, dear, I enjoy hearing from you just as much!_

_Molly_

-v-v-

_Dear Molly,_

_I have wonderful, wonderful news! The baby kicked today! Not just once, either, he kicked three times in a row! I wish you could have seen James's face when I told him. His smile was so beautiful. In fact, it was quite possibly the most beautiful thing that I've seen since we've gone into hiding._

_And Percy? I think it's a handsome name, very smart. Thank you for the offer, I might take you up on it someday, but what I'd like best, I think, if you could send me instructions and such so I could learn how? I need a hobby to keep me busy. I can only read so much and walk around my house so many times before my mind goes numb from boredom._

_Petunia does know I'm in hiding, I don't know what she thinks about it, though. She hasn't said anything about it in the few letters I have from her._

_I never considered that a possibility for a reason for her to be so awful. I always just assumed it was that she just hated me and magic. But you might be right about their being more to it. I think she was very jealous at first, she even sent a letter to Dumbledore, asking about going to Hogwarts once. She probably did want to be a witch like me, but when she wasn't…I think that was actually when she turned so cruel. Before that, yes, she could get annoyed when I did strange things, but I always knew that she was my best friend and I was hers._

_My parents were very proud of me being a witch too, I realize in retrospect. I can't say what they did while I was off at school, of course, but Petunia always did seem especially bitter the first week or two after I'd come home for Hogwarts. I have to wonder if it was because of how they acted with me home again or because they'd become so excited for my return._

_I want to write her and make things right, but I don't feel she'd want to. She's always been excellent at holding onto a grudge._

_As for your parents, I'm sorry they're like that. I can't imagine what it must be like to have your parents disapprove of you marrying the person you love just because he wants children and you can't give him any. Have two ever considered adoption? I'm sure you have more than enough references at this point who would gush about how wonderful a mother you would be!_

_Lily_

-v-v-

_Dear Lily,_

_First, I'd like to apologize. I haven't written in almost two months. Arthur and I recently moved to a new home and hardly a week after settling in we were asked to take up the care of several siblings after their parents went missing. The youngest was just barely four months old at the time! It really was a shame that both the mother and father were only children and that their grandparents had passed some time ago. The children were scared of what would happen to them the whole time they stayed with Arthur and I before we found their parents. The oldest one, hardly even ten, kept asking if the Order found his parents dead, would he and his siblings have to go to an orphanage._

_I promised them they would stay right where they were now, with me and Arthur. I'd never let a child go to some place so loveless if I could help it._

_And just so you know, we did find the parents last week. The father's blind due to a curse and the mother weak thanks to their long imprisonment, but now they're home safe with their children and I've been checking in on them every day to make sure things are going alright._

_I'm very happy to hear the baby kicked! That must be such a wonderful feeling. I hope you and James have come to a decision on the baby's name? You must be getting quite close to your due date now, it's nearly the end of July!_

_About your sister, you should write her, even if she doesn't reply or ridicules you. Maybe all she needs is for you to offer a hand to bury the hatchet. If you don't try at all, you'll never know. Since I don't know how it will go, I will apologize now if it fails in advance._

_Arthur and I have discussed adoption, we just aren't sure we should at the moment. There are children who need us all the time as it is, adopting one would mean we'd have to shift our attention to them as to bond properly. In the process, we would leave all those young ones who come through our home now without a safe place to be when their parents are gone on raids, missing, or when they are between family._

_If everything goes smoothly, Arthur and I hope to adopt a war orphan or two when it's over. It feels like the right thing to do._

_Molly_

-v-v-

_Dear Molly,_

_It's been a while, hasn't it?_

_I'm happy to hear those children are back with their parents and I'm glad you're checking up on them. One baby is difficult enough, I can't imagine what it must be like trying to recover from imprisonment while caring for a baby and older children at the same time. So, if your letters continue to lag, I will not blame you. There are more important things than writing a woman in hiding._

_I trust you got the birth announcement for Harry. I have to say, I never thought a baby could be so time-consuming! Even when he's sleeping all I want to do is stare at him. James like to sit with me too, sometimes. It's nice. This is the most at peace we've been since we went into hiding, I think._

_That doesn't mean we aren't constantly afraid, of course, but it's easier to let it slip from your mind when we have Harry to focus on. I love him so much, Molly. He's so beautiful. Just the other day I got him to laugh for me when I tickled his little toes, it was such a blissful sound!_

_Also, thank you for the sweaters, James barely takes his off!_

_I sent an announcement to my sister about Harry, too, but I haven't heard back or anything. I'm afraid she just threw it out (as she's probably done with all my other letters). I keep wondering if I shouldn't write something down about making sure Harry doesn't go to her if anything happens to James and I. Her son already looks like a little bruiser from what I've seen from his birth announcement and I'm sure he'll have his father's temperament–which will not bode well for Harry if they meet._

_It's probably awfully silly, but I wish you were my sister instead. We just barely known each other a year, but I feel like you know more about me than my own sister. If I had to choose anyone for Harry to go to, it'd be you and Arthur after Sirius._

_Actually, I'd put you before Sirius, as he's a bit too reckless for my tastes, but James would no doubt fight me tooth and nail on the issue. He thinks no one would love our son more. He might be right, of course, Sirius is at his gentlest with Harry. At the very least, it'd make him mature, if he had to care for Harry._

_Anyway, I'm betting we've both been very busy as of late, but I hope I'll hear from you soon!_

_Lily_

-v-v-

_Dear Lily,_

_Merlin, time flies doesn't it? I can't believe it's taken me this long to get back to you! Christmas is next week and you wrote me at the end of November! How are you Lily? How is James and little Harry? I'm sure he must have accomplished so much by now!_

_I remember when Wilber was a baby, it was while Arthur and I were watching him that he took his first steps! His mother was a bit upset about that, but we made up for it by getting the tyke to walk her way when she came to pick him up._

_It's good hearing the sweaters aren't going to waste at your home! My older nephews, Robert and Horton don't wear theirs too much as they think they're "dorky". But, I suppose they are getting to be teenagers and think most things connected to family are. At least Wilber enjoys it still. Some days, I hear, it's all he wants to wear in the winter._

_I'm quite touched you'd give me your son to raise over his godfather and feel so close to me. I suppose trying to reach out to Petunia did not go well, then?_

_Do you have any special plans for Harry's first Christmas? I know you can't get a tree, but maybe you'll be passing down some family traditions? I know that I've treated Arthur's nephews to some Prewett traditions–like making our own garland for the Christmas tree and making a batch of gingerbread men for Santa._

_Surely, as you're busy (and quite possible more than me!), I don't expect to hear from you right away, but still I hope we'll get a Christmas card as I'm attaching one to the letter for you._

_Molly_

-v-v-

_Dear Molly,_

_Thanks for the Christmas Card, Molly. You, Arthur and your brothers looked very jolly. I trust you got ours._

_I can't believe how quickly time goes here, either. I remember before Harry was born, it was so slow! A day felt like a week in hiding. But, now, it seems like no time at all. In fact, James and I have been discussing who's name Harry will be saying first. He thinks it'll be Dada, of course, but I think my little boy will be saying Mumma first. After all, I talk back to him much more than James does when Harry gets in a cooing mood!_

_As for Petunia, it's hard to say, she sent us a Christmas card with her husband and son along with a rather ugly vase. But, I suppose, it counts as a good sign if she's sending me a gift. Merlin knows I didn't get one last year!_

_For Christmas Eve, Sirius and Remus and Peter all stopped by. It was quite nice, we had a ham and they sang Christmas carols for Harry and I. It was quite the show! Of course, everything with them is a drama or comedy, but it's yet to get old. Especially with Harry, who's not used to their antics yet. Before we went to bed, I had Harry help me put out cookies and milk for Santa. He's still too little to be of much help, but I had him put down a carrot for the Reindeers on the coffee table. I'm glad I washed it before I let him have it, because the instant I gave it to him, he put it in his mouth!_

_I can't say he liked it too much. His expression was adorable, though._

_Tomorrow's New Year's Day, so, happy 1981, Molly and I hope to get a letter from you again soon!_

_Lily_

-v-v-v-v-v-

Sitting side by side, heads bent close as they decorated cookies for dinner, Molly found herself taking the sprinkle holder from her young nephew when she saw him dumping them on an unfrosted biscuit.

Putting on a smile when the boy gave her a confused look, she took a bit of frosting on her finger and wiped it on his nose. "No, no, dear! Frosting _then_ sprinkles!" Molly told Wilber with a laugh.

The boy grinned goofily as he reached up to clean the frosting from his nose. "Sorry, Aunt Molly!" he apologized. "The sprinkles are my _favorite_!"

Still grinning, Molly looked to and fro with exaggeration before whispering, "They're mine too! If only I could put them on more than just biscuits!"

The boy put his hands to his mouth and giggled. "Even peas, Aunt Molly?" he asked.

"Ye-" but she cut herself short when she saw her Floo flare to life with a call. Getting up, she wiped her hands on her apron and approached with a mix of trepidation and curiosity.

When she recognized the person calling as fellow Order member, Dorcas Meadow, she smiled. "Well, hullo there, Dorcas! It's been a while? How are you, dear? You really must come over soon for dinner it's been so long!" she chattered.

The woman, however, did not smile back. Instead, she just frowned. "Molly? Would it be okay with you if I came through you Floo? I have some news I want to share with you and I… I think this is something I should tell you in person," Dorcas Meadows told her, brow dimpled with pain.

Cheer abandoning her, Molly knew exactly what the woman was going to tell her. Someone was dead or gravely injured. Someone she cared for. "Is it one of my brothers?" she asked. "Did Fabian or Gideon-"

"Both. Both of them died," she blurted. "I'm sorry."

"I–no, no need to apologize. Thank you for telling me," Molly whispered as she turned her back to Dorcas. Tears already gathered in her eyes as her heart constricted painfully, Molly barely noticed little Wilber pass right by her. She hardly even registered the too young child taking charge of things and telling Dorcas goodbye before she felt his young arms wrap around her waist.

"It's okay to cry, Aunt Molly," he said in a whisper. "Mummy says so."

Hugging the little boy close, Molly sobbed gratefully into his soft hair. "Oh, Wilber!" she whimpered. "The boys! _The boys_!"

"It's okay, Aunt Molly. It's okay," he soothed.

And fifteen minutes later, when Arthur came home, after being notified himself about his brother-in-laws deaths, he found a wobbly smile stretching across his lips.

He should have known that sweet little Wilber would have known just what to do to comfort Molly until he could get home. "Molly? Wilber?" he called gently.

Boy in her arms, Molly turned. "Arthur!" she wailed, eyes desperate and so very broken.

Not wasting a moment, the man swept forward and hugged his wife hard. Things, once again, had been turned on their heads. But he knew, just like every time before, they would find a way to grow stronger from this.

-v-v-v-v-v-

_Dear Lily,_

_I'm sure you've heard by now, but Fabian and Gideon are dead. I had to help plan the funeral with my parents. It had to be the worst time in all my life trying to help pick out their caskets, gravestones, and planning their eulogies. My parents wouldn't listen to me and thought they knew more about the two even though they had all but stopped seeing them after they finished Hogwarts._

_If I didn't have Arthur on my side, I don't know what I'd have done. My mum listened to him a little more than she did me, but my father would not speak to either of us. The funeral, though, Lily. You should have seen all the people that came. Gideon's girlfriend sat with us and even got up to give a speech about him and Fabian. It was so lovely and did more to show them for the men they were than I ever could have if I'd tried to do the same._

_I wish Gideon had gotten to propose to her like he'd been planning to, I would have adored her for a sister-in-law._

_Lily, I don't know when I'll be writing back next, but, please, do not think I'm abandoning you. I just need some time. Even more time than I've already taken at this point. My brothers were the dearest family I had and now they are gone._

_Molly_

-v-v-

_Dear Molly,_

_I have heard about Fabian and Gideon. I don't begrudge you for wanting time to process it, either. I've lost a great many friends, Sabrina, Marlene, and Edgar. To add your brothers to that list hurts much more than I like to dwell on._

_Seeing as it's summer, now, I hope your nephews are helping you and Arthur through this hard time. The oldest one, he must be nearly fourteen now? I'm sure they knew Fabian and Gideon just as well you did. From what I understand, having family close makes the pain easier to handle. It does for me, at least_ _. I can't tell you how many dark moods Harry has swayed me away from. When he isn't the one causing them, anyway._

_Him and James accidentally broke the vase Petunia gave me for Christmas. I know it was something we could easily fix, but it still bothered me quite a bit. I couldn't even say if I wanted it fixed at that point. It felt like a metaphor for our relationship, u_ _gly and fragile._ _I almost wanted it to stay shattered, just so I could use it as an excuse to break my relationship with Petunia. In the end, James convinced me to fix it. I'm not sure I'm glad for it yet, but I look at the pictures of Petunia I have, the two I have of her son and I wish so badly for him to have what his mother and I don't with Harry._

_Unfortunately, I don't see that happening, but if James and I ever have another child, they'll be best friends with Harry if it's the last thing I do. I won't see what happened between me and my sister repeated. I won't!_

_Harry's crying in the other room and James is busy getting some much needed sleep, I'll have to leave this letter off here. I hope the next time I hear from you we'll have something happier to share._

_Lily_

-v-v-

_Dear Lily,_

_Here we are and it's mid-October, Horton and Robert are both at Hogwarts, Wilber has the chicken pox and Viola has announced she's pregnant! It's the happiest news we've had in months, we're all so excited for the baby. It looks like it'll be another little boy and Viola has expressed an interest in naming her son after her Septimus._

_Arthur has gone on a raid this past week, Benjy Fenwick, as atrocious as it sounds, was blown to pieces on the mission. While I'm sad that he has died, who I really care about is his children. The daughter is Hogwarts age, but the son's little more than a toddler at this point. I worry for Benjy's son, he's so young and his grandfather is half-blind. I just can't see that being a good combination for either of them. I sent the daughter, Mimi, a letter to let her know, as I promised her over a year ago, my home is her home if she wants to come here or if her little brother does. I haven't heard back from her, but I hope at least she believes me and will come to me if she needs me._

_I'm relieved to hear James talked you out of leaving the vase broken. Even the most ugly things can become beautiful, Lily. Family is precious as well. Take it from me, dear. I know how awful it is to be so far estranged from family that you have little communication and no feeling besides contempt and distaste for them. I hate to think of you reaching that point of feeling with your sister, Lily. There's no coming back from that._

_Seeing as I don't know when next I'll hear from you, I'll wish you a happy Halloween now, and I have attached a little crochet pumpkin hat for Harry to wear for the occasion!_

_Molly_

-v-v-v-v-v-

Happily humming along to the wireless as a bit of early day's sunlight streamed in from the window, Molly sighed in contentment. This was the kind of morning she lived for, the kind where the sun was bright and welcoming, her husband was reading the paper in the next room and a little boy was sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs, which made for a perfect excuse to make smiley pancakes.

Smiling to herself, Molly realized this was the most at peace she'd felt since her brothers' deaths in August. It seemed she was finally starting to move past the terrible event and maybe, if she were ever so lucky, life would take on a taste of the normality that had been missing from it for some time.

Pouring the batter onto the skillet, Molly turned to reach for the chocolate chips when her fireplace came flaring to life with a call. The woman turned away fully from her cookingand answered it with a grin when she saw Dumbledore's familiar face. "Hello there! What has brought you calling this morning?" she asked.

His blue eyes lightless, the old man said gravely, "Molly, we have some bad news."


	7. A Mother Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this fic through, as well as for all the comments and kudos; I appreciate it :)

The light shining in from the window was no longer welcoming, but an irritant to her eyes from where she was sitting at the kitchen table with her husband and Dumbledore. Cups of untouched tea sitting in front of them, no one said anything at first. It was too hard to find words when, yet again, Molly's world had been rocked to its core. Another friend was gone and the only hope Molly had now was that this would the last one. Just like Lily, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was also dead. When this story was passed to the press (if Dumbledore hadn't already, anyway), magical Britain and beyond would be rejoicing at the return of peace and safety.

But Molly? She, for what felt like the _thousandth time_ , would be mourning the deaths of those dear to her.

Finally, Arthur, after a long, drawn out sigh, asked "All of them? Lily, James and Harry?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry survived," he replied.

Gasping with surprise, Molly reached for her husband's hand. She tried to say something to express her disbelief at this, but found herself incapable of anything but happy squeaking and tears. Running his thumb in soothing circles on the back of her hand, Arthur spoke for her once again. "How? I thought you said You-Know-Who used the killing curses on them."

"That's the strange part, Lily seems to have evoked some sort of protective magic in the process of trying to save Harry from Voldemort."

Flinching at the despicable name, Molly inquired, "Where is he then? I thought you said Peter was dead, Sirius on his way to Azkaban and Remus… He's out of country? So, where does that leave Harry? Is he at Hogwarts?"

Nodding along to her listing off of their locations, Dumbledore paused at her guess to Harry's location and shook his head. Waiting for him to give the baby's real location, Molly's frayed nerves could hardly take it. She might have even started crying in earnest or screaming if it weren't for the fact her dear, _dear_ , Arthur kissed the back of her hand. Looking to him, she was calmed by the way his eyes mirrored her own pains. He hadn't been close to Lily, but he knew her death hurt her deeply–nearly as much as the deaths of the twins had.

"Harry was left with his aunt last night, he'll be–"

" _What_!" Molly gasped, cutting off Dumbledore entirely. "His _aunt_? You mean you left poor, little Harry with _Petunia_?"

Blinking, the old man started, "Yes, well, she _is_ family and there's the matter of wards–"

"She hated Lily! Merlin's name, Albus! It's like putting the boy in a viper's pit!"

"Come now, surely Petunia wouldn't be so spiteful to a little boy…" Dumbledore said in the most soothing, placating tone that he could.

"You obviously know nothing," Molly declared in a low, dangerous tone. "You know _nothing_ about that woman, about that family besides the fact they are _related_ to Lily." Pushing herself up from her chair with shaking, rage-filled arms she hissed at Dumbledore, "Giving him to family might keep him _safer,_ but he will grow up despised for nothing more than being a wizard. In the end, that's really not safe is it? Who knows how that will unhinge the boy and what kind of menace he could grow up to be because of it!"

Frowning, the old man took off his glasses and began to clean them as he eyed the irate woman carefully. "He'll grow up safe, with family, and away from the public eye, surely you see that it's the best option we have?"

"There are hundreds who'd take him in! And at least half of those would do it out of the good of their hearts! Another half would have known his parents to some degree and out of those, there ought to be at least _one_ suitable family who would have the resources, know-how and temperaments to be good surrogate parents to a little boy as famous as he!" Molly countered loudly and viciously.

"And who are they, Molly?" the man questioned in deceptively light tone that did not match the grim expression of his face.

Molly found herself at a loss. Going through all the parents and not-parents alike that she knew in her head, she could not think of a single one that matched the criteria she'd listed. Tears beginning to sting her eyes at the thought of losing the argument and having to leave that poor little boy with a loathsome woman like Petunia, Molly began to tremble.

Picking up on inability to name anyone, Dumbledore began, "See now, you can't think of anyone better ei–"

"Us."

Dumbledore and Molly looked to the only other person in the room. Expression accomplished and serene, Arthur smiled. He knew very well that his wife and Headmaster were waiting for him to explain.

"I saw the letter, Molly. Lily said she wouldn't trust anyone more with her baby. If you're who she thought was best, don't you think we should listen to her? After all, mother does know best," he finished with a smirk that bordered on being just a bit too smug for the likes of a Weasley.

Opening and closing her mouth, Molly didn't know what to say in response. What could she say? Arthur was not just agreeing to adopting a child, but a child like _Harry_. A boy who's name would be known across the world, a boy who would bring trouble to their small family just by them being the ones to raise him. They were going to be under public scrutiny for the rest of their lives if they took Harry in, but he was _willing_. He was willing to give up their cozy life for one full of flash and fame and danger. All just to make Molly happy and give a child a proper home.

"Arthur," Molly whispered. "Are you sure?"

Grinning, the man's ears flushed ever so slightly under the scrutiny from her and Dumbledore. "I'm sure," he answered.

Looking Dumbledore then, Molly leaned in close when she spotted the hesitancy in his eyes. "Please, Albus? I have the letter if you need to see it. _I_ know _you_ know that we will be more suitable parents than Petunia and her husband, so, again, please? You know Harry will be far better off here than elsewhere."

Sighing, Dumbledore looked between the wife and husband before placing his glasses back on his face. "If you do take in Harry, you cannot change your mind, I want you to understand."

"We won't," Molly declared, reaching for her husband to cling to. "We've been waiting for a child all our lives and it seems that Harry was destined to be it."

"Yes, yes, it must seem that way…" Dumbledore agreed in a distant tone as he stood up. "I suppose, if you plan to take in the dear boy, I should go retrieve him."

Molly, smiling widely, stood up along with the old man and lead him to the hearth. "Yes, please do, Albus. Also, keep in mind, if you fail to bring him here, I'm not against going to the _Daily Prophet_ with the story."

Eyebrows shooting up high, the old man's eyes began to twinkle. "Why, that's very Slytherin of you, Molly," he chuckled.

"You learn to be, especially when you care for as many different children as I do," she replied back with a smirk.

Waving goodbye, the old man promised, "I'll have him here by tonight or I'll write you a letter to know something has come up."

"Thank you, Albus. You don't know how much this means to us–what it would mean to _Lily,_ " Molly said as she watched him take a handful of Floo powder.

Nodding sagely, the old man concluded, "I will see you again soon, goodbye." And with a cry of his destination, Molly and Arthur were left alone once more in their home.

"Aunt Molly?" a little voice piped up from the top of the stairs.

Twirling around, the woman looked to the freckle-faced child standing at the top of the stairs. "Wilber!" she cried, having forgotten in the time since Dumbledore came that her nephew was sleeping upstairs.

"Aunt Molly, Uncle Arthur, who was that?" Wilber inquired as he thumped down the steps and into his aunt's waiting arms for a morning hug.

Ruffling the child's auburn hair, Arthur grinned proudly. "Dumbledore. It seems you'll be getting a little cousin to practice being a big brother on."

Blue eyes going very large, the boy's mouth dropped open. "Are you for real? I'm getting a baby cousin!" he exclaimed, bouncing with sudden exuberance. "When can I meet him? Is he going to be here soon? Oh! Oh! Can I help decorate his room?"

Laughing at the boy's joy, Molly leaned over to share a kiss with her husband. "I told you I'd give you a child someday," she murmured happily into his ear.

"That you did, that you did," Arthur agreed as he reached over to push back her hair and place a more tender kiss to temple. "I will never doubt you again, my love."

Smiling broadly back, Molly hefted her young nephew up on her hip and proclaimed, "And now, it's time for smiley pancakes!"

"Yay! Smiley pancakes!"

-v-v-v-v-v-

Seated in a white rocking chair with Harry in her arms, Molly took a moment to take in the room around her. At Wilber's behest, they'd painted the walls green and charmed a moving train to decorate the walls. Everything else was just transfigured boxes and the like, but Arthur was certain tomorrow he could pop out to buy a real cot and changing table to put in the room along with a few more toys that weren't so careworn from a dozen little hands.

Looking once again to the dozing infant in her arms, Molly gently ran her thumb along side the healing wound on Harry's forehead. Everyone in the whole world was going to recognize him by it. Sighing, Molly wondered if they should investing in a small stockpile of hats to cover Harry's forehead for outings.

People might recognize them still, but if Harry wore a hat when they went for strolls or to market, maybe, if he was ever so lucky, they wouldn't as quickly. Which, really, was all Molly knew she could hope for. Harry was going to have to learn to deal with the fame and the younger he did, the better, she felt.

"Are you two doing okay?" Arthur asked softly as he walked into the room.

Smiling at her husband as he began to massage her shoulders, Molly strained her neck to kiss his jawline. "Just lovely," she answered. "Harry was babbling for his daddy a little bit ago, but it was easy enough to distract him with a picture book."

Arthur winced in sympathy for their new son. "I guess he won't be calling me Dad anytime soon," he said.

"No… I don't think he'll be calling you Dad or I, Mum, for quite some time," Molly agreed thoughtfully as she shifted Harry's snoozing body a little higher in her arms. "Do we want him to call us Mummy and Daddy, anyway? Those titles rightfully belong to Lily and James, don't you think?"

Arthur gave a small nod. "You're probably right, but what's he to call us, then? Aunt Molly and Uncle Arthur? Not that I object to those names, but he's effectively our _son,_ now, Molly."

"Hm… You can be Papa and I'll be, oh, how about _Ma_? It sounds a little silly, but Mama sounds a bit too similar to Mumma for my tastes."

"Wonderful, Papa and Ma we will be," Arthur agreed with a kiss to the top of her head.

Staring at Harry's small face with her husband, Molly was made to find all the bits that she could of his parents in his features. Harry, like most babies, did not look overly much like either parent at this point. However, if Molly stared hard enough, she knew she could find bits of James and Lily in his countenance yet. She already knew that Harry's hair was James's and she suspected his face would take on his father's shape as well. Yet Harry's eyes were already completely Lily's. The shape, the color, the eyebrows that laid above them.

_Oh Lily…_

Wiping at her eyes, Molly held back a soft sob. "A-Arthur," she sniffled.

"Sh, shh.," he soothed, wrapping his arms strongly around her shoulders as he began to rock the chair she and Harry sat in. "Don't cry, my love. Not in front of our son like this."

Molly shook and gulped in air. "I know," she mumbled. "Harry's already been through enough, to see his Ma cry on top of that… Oh, but, _Arthur_! Lily should be the one holding him, James should be the one watching her and Harry... I feel like were masquerading as a family that we're never going to be!"

"No, Molly. We _will_ be that family. You know why? Because that's what Harry needs. He needs a Ma and Papa to love him and if we start doubting ourselves because we aren't his _first_ parents, then he's never going to have that, you see?" Arthur asserted as he kneaded his fingers into her shoulders.

Molly didn't quite see, but she thought she understood. If she doubted her capabilities and her role, Harry would too. That was the last thing she wanted for Lily's– _her–_ son. She wanted him to know he could trust her implicitly, she wanted Harry to know her love for him was endless and infinite. That no matter what happened, what he said or did, she would love him.

That she had always wanted him and nothing was ever going to change that.

Stirring in her arms, Harry's sooty lashes lifted halfway and his bright, sleep-hazed green eyes looked up to her searchingly. "Mumma?" he asked.

Petting the baby's hair, Molly held back the urge to cry and kissed his forehead. "No, love, you have just Ma and Papa now."

"Ma? Pah-pa?" Harry repeated uncertainly.

Nodding, the woman pointed at herself. "I'm Ma," she explained, "and this here, he's Papa," she finished, pointing up at Arthur's smiling face.

"Where Mumma?" he asked after a moment.

Sharing a look with Arthur, Molly remembered back to all the other children she'd watched over the years. When little ones had asked after their parents, she would find something to distract them...

"Harry, dear, how about a song?"

The baby frowned, but after a long moment, agreed with a bob of his head before shoving his hand in his mouth.

Smiling, Molly cuddled him close. Taking a breath, she began to sing:

_Hushabye,_

_don't you cry,_

_I love you,_

_do do doo..._

_Hushabye,_

_babymine_

_I love you,_

_do do doo..._

_A lullaby_

_Just for you_

_my little one_

_do do doo..._

_Hushabye_

_don't you cry_

_I love you_

_do do doo..._

_Hushabye_

_forever mine_

_I love you_

_(I love you...)_

By the time she reached the last line of her lullaby, Harry was once again somewhere off in dreamland. Standing up from the rocking chair, she went to lay Harry down in his crib and kissed his little cheeks and then his nose and finally, his lips.

"Goodnight, _my_ son," she whispered.

Arthur's hand coming to enclose around her own, Arthur murmured, "Sleep tight, _my_ boy."

Turning her eyes on her husband, Molly carefully lead him out of the room and to their own bedroom. Sitting him down on the end of the bed next to her, she squeezed his hand. "We finally have a son of our own," she said.

"Yes, we do," Arthur replied with a grin. "I'll teach him how a muggle motor boats works, why Chudley Cannons are the best Quidditch team ever and what it means to be an honest man. What, Molly, do you plan to teach our son?"

For a moment, she did not know how to answer, but when she met her husband's eyes, ready to admit defeat, Molly found she had known the answer all along. "I'll teach Harry how to never give up, why bravery is the most important trait to have and what love can do."

Leaning in for a kiss, the man muttered, "There's my girl."

"I love you," Molly said when they pulled apart.

Fingers slipping beneath her blouse, Arthur nodded, "I love you too, Molly."

Motioning for the lights to go out, Molly sank heavily into the arms of her husband and thought that all their talking would be lost in favor of more intimate communication, when, Arthur asked, "Are you happy, my love? I know you are mourning, but do you think you can finally be happy with your–our–life? We have everything we always wanted. We have each other, a home in the country, good friends and family, and, now, a child of our own. We have _everything_ we dreamed of."

"Yes, I'm happy and I think I always will be now," Molly answered after a quiet laugh. Her path to her dream had been full of twists and bumpy roads, but she finally was what she'd always wanted to be: a _Mother_.

And in the end, nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who may like one, here's a basic timeline:
> 
> 1954 - Fabian and Gideon born.
> 
> September 1966 - Molly becomes pregnant.
> 
> November 1966 - Molly aborts baby.
> 
> January 1967 - Molly returns to school.
> 
> Spring 1971 - Molly and Arthur Marry.
> 
> 1976 - Molly joins Order as babysitter.
> 
> Fall 1979 - Molly meets Lily.
> 
> Winter 1980 - Lily and James go into hiding.
> 
> Spring 1981 - Fabian and Gideon die.
> 
> October 1981 - Lily and James die.
> 
> November 1981 - Molly and Arthur adopt Harry.


	8. Epilogue: Ten Years and Ten Months Later

"Ma, where's Mimi? She said she'd come to say goodbye!"

"Ma, do you _really_ think I'll be in Gryffindor?"

"Oh, look, Molly, there's Gwendolyn, Mark and their children. Do you think we should go say hello? Their son Devin and Harry are just a year apart…"

Failing to make heads or tails of what anyone in her family was saying, Molly threw up her hands in exasperation. "One thing at a time!" she chided. "I can't understand you lot when you all speak at once."

The three managed to look sheepish as they glanced between one another, deciding on who should speak first. Arthur nodded at the boys, bowing out as a staring contest began between Junior and Harry. In a show of underhandedness that hadn't been seen since Christmas Eve dinner of '88, Harry gasped and pointed at something behind Junior, causing the older (and far too gullible) boy to swerve around to look.

Grinning widely, Harry turned to Molly and asked, "Ma, do you think I'll be sorted into Gryffindor?"

Molly bit her lip. They were on this again? "Of course you will be, love," she said with the same confidence she'd used every time she assured Harry he would be sorted exactly where he was meant to be.

"Really?" Junior broke in, wearing a sneer. "That trick there wasn't very Gryffindor-like."

The bit of relief that had begun to bring a smile to Harry's face quickly faded as he turned on his brother and socked him in the arm. "Take that back! Mimi was the one who taught me how to do that and _she_ was in Gryffindor!"

"Harry James Weasley!" Molly shrilled, grabbing her son by his ear and dragging him over to her side. "We do not hit our brothers!"

"He deserved it!" Harry protested as he slipped out of her hold.

Molly just shook her head. "Honestly, boys, when will you grow up? You're fifteen and eleven!"

Still rubbing at his arm, Junior said, "You know, Harry, Mimi might have taught you that, but she's also working in the Werewolf Registry Office. If that's not bravery, I don't know what is."

"Hush, Junior," Arthur scolded. "Werewolves are no more dangerous than you or me when it's not the night of the full moon."

Junior's lower lip puckered outward as he fell into a sulk. Even though Arthur made a good point, Molly couldn't help but agree with Junior's feelings about working with werewolves. Yes, werewolves were _usually_ safe when it wasn't the night of the full moon, but that didn't mean they couldn't do something to you still. Even in these modern times, research on whether being attacked by a werewolf in their human form would turn you into one or not was still inconclusive. Some insisted you'd become as full-fledged a monster as the werewolf who attacked you while others argued it'd do little to you beyond giving you a few wolfish tendencies, like having insomnia on the night of the full moon.

Since Molly had never talked lycanthropy symptoms with any wizards or witches who'd been attacked by a werewolf while said werewolf was in their human form, she was inclined to be leery of werewolves no matter what time of the month.

"Ma, how do you know I'll be in Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

Taking a deep breath, Molly was prepared to repeat the same speech she had been giving Harry all week when, from behind, a familiar, throaty voice declared, "Because you kicked You-know-Who's arse when you were just a _baby_."

"Language!" Molly chided as Mimi fell into step beside her. Giving the young woman's arm a sharp pinch, she said, "There are scores of children present!"

Wincing, Mimi rubbed at her arm and muttered, "Sorry!"

"Mimi!" Junior greeted with a laugh. "I thought I'd have to get on the Express without saying goodbye!" Which would have been a true (if unlikely) tragedy for Junior. Mimi was very good about saying goodbye to her brothers and others she cared for. Even when all odds pointed against her being able to do so, she always appeared to find a way.

Molly knew that was all in thanks to her father. Benjy, while a loving father, was by no means a perfect one and had made his children many promises he could (or perhaps never intended to) keep. In response to all the lies she'd been fed in her childhood, Mimi had vowed to herself to be honest with all those she loved and to keep every promise she made. It meant she could come off as caustic and pig-headed sometimes, but Molly tried not to hold it against her adoptive daughter. It was the result of good intentions, after all.

As for Junior, all he wanted these days was to say goodbye. He had not gotten the chance to exchange farewells with his father before he died and since then, Junior did not like to part without a goodbye. When he was smaller, he used to throw big fits when he'd not gotten to say goodbye to those he loved. He didn't do that anymore, but Molly suspected he still felt the same anger and sorrow when he missed his chance to trade farewells. Molly was sure Mimi held the same suspicions as her.

The young woman smiled at her brother. "Nope! I'd never do that to you, Junior!"

As Junior grinned, Arthur, eyes sharp, but lips curved in amusement asked, "Just how did you managed to get away from the office, Mimi? With how short-staffed the Werewolf Registry is, I'd think they'd not let you off for something like this so early in the day."

"They might think I just went to the loo," Mimi admitted as she carefully looked away from them to scan the whispering crowds. "Wow, there are a lot of people here today, aren't there? More than last year, wouldn't you say?"

Molly rolled her eyes. Of course there were more people milling around the Platform than last year, _Harry_ was here. Witches and wizards of all ages were hoping to catch a glimpse of the Wizarding World's savior before he left for his first year at Hogwarts. She didn't say this, however. Harry didn't need to know that he had drawn a crowd yet again. So, instead, Molly narrowed her eyes at Mimi.

"I hope you're planning to hurry back to work in the next few minutes, Mimi. It wouldn't do for you to lose your job over something like this," she said.

Mimi laughed. "Oh Molly, I won't. They don't get nearly enough applicants as it is. They aren't going to fire the newest blood they've gotten into the office in almost eight years."

"Smugness is a rather unbecoming trait in a young woman," Molly scolded lightly as she grabbed hold of Harry before he was run over by an overeager child and their trolley of luggage.

She laughed again and swung an arm around Junior, then Harry, and said, "You better watch out for our little brother, Junior. Harry's such an ickle boy and no doubt others will be looking to take advantage of that."

" _That's_ what you think others are going to try and take advantage of?" Junior asked, eyebrow raised.

Mimi sighed and Molly almost did the same. Their family didn't talk about Harry's fame openly in public, the same way they didn't talk about how Molly and Arthur gained guardianship over the Fenwicks. No one liked to dredge up the fact Harry had survived an attack on his life by the Darkest Wizard of the century anymore than how Molly and Arthur had to make the Fenwick's grandfather cry before he signed over guardianship of Junior and Mimi to the Weasleys.

They were sore spots for the children. Harry hated being reminded of how he survived because it always made him think of those who didn't and overpowered him with a guilt a boy his age didn't deserve. The Fenwicks didn't like being reminded of how Mimi had to tear apart her grandfather's capabilities as a guardian in front of Family Services so that Junior would be placed in the safer hands of Molly and Arthur. Just asking how the two became honorary Weasley often caused Mimi to tear up and, sometimes, excuse herself so she could call her grandfather so she could apologize again for taking Junior away from him.

It had been the right thing to do, all those years ago, but it did little to sooth Mimi. Though her grandfather had forgiven her shortly before Junior went off to Hogwarts, not even he could truly comfort Mimi when she was reminded of the betrayal she'd committed against him.

"Ah! Look there, children!" Arthur cried suddenly, pointing out his sister, her husband, and their children, Wilber, Dill, and Anthony. Wilber was the only one of Viola's boys old enough for Hogwarts, but next fall Dill, after Wilber graduated, would take over his brother's spot at Hogwarts and join Junior and Harry at Hogwarts. Relieved for the distraction, Molly hustled the children toward the family.

"Hello!" she said, reaching out for hugs first from her brother and sister-in-law and then, her nephews.

Wearing a smile, Arthur's brother-in-law asked Harry, "Excited for you first ride on the Express?"

Harry gave a small nod. "Yes, I think so."

And for a few minutes, they all made pleasant chatter, swapping Hogwarts Express stories while assuring Harry that he was going to make an excellent Gryffindor, just like his cousins and Mimi before him. When Dill and Anthony began to whine about having to wait another year and two years respectively before they could go to Hogwarts, Mimi took a step back from the group and gave a little wave as she pointed herself away from them.

"As great as it's been to see you all, I have to be getting back to work. Goodbye!"

"See you later!"

"Goodbye!"

"Have a nice day, dear!"

They called after Mimi as she disappeared into the throngs. Once she was gone from sight, they returned to their conversation for a few more minutes. When the Express gave its warning whistle, Molly felt her heart skip a beat. Eyes snapping to Harry, she put on a wide smile when she saw he was staring back at her.

"Ready love?" she asked.

Harry just stared back at her, a faint glint of fear in his eyes. Sighing, Molly gently grabbed hold of Harry's face. Tracing his features with her thumbs, she said, "You'll do splendidly at Hogwarts, I'm sure."

"I love you, Ma," Harry whispered, one of his own hands coming to cover hers.

Molly leaned forward and kissed Harry's forehead. "I love you too, Harry."

"Come on, Harry, we should get going," Junior urged, Wilber waiting beside him, but looking toward the Express.

Letting go of her baby, Molly said, "Write me, my darling boy."

"I will," Harry promised.

Turning her gaze on Junior then, Molly told him, "Keep an eye out for your brother."

Junior smiled. "I will. Bye, Ma. Love you."

Molly couldn't help herself. Launching forward, she grabbed both boys in a tight embrace and begged, " _Please_ stay safe. Listen to your professors, think before you act, and don't do anything idiotic like wander into the Forbidden Forest looking for Werewolf cubs or dive into the lake to try and befriend the mermaids."

When she pulled back, she saw the boys were grinning at her. "Don't worry, Ma! That kind of 'it could kill a kneazle curiosity' is Mimi's thing, not ours, right, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, smiling up at his brother.

Molly wrung her hands. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind Junior they were just as prone to trouble as his sister. It was him who threw himself in a tussle with some older boys over their teasing of a classmate in his first week at Hogwarts, not Mimi. It was Harry who nearly got himself kidnapped when he was six and wandered out of the pub during supper with the extended Weasley family at the Three Broomsticks, again, _not_ Mimi.

Those two instances were only the tip of the iceberg as well. If Molly truly wanted to, she could name a half dozen more if given a moment's pause for thought. Before she could voice this, however, Arthur laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Goodbye boys," he said.

"Bye Papa," they returned before grabbing their things and heading for the train. Molly watched, feeling some relief at how Wilber and Junior arranged themselves to keep Harry safely situated between them. Harry was going to fine, Molly told herself. The older boys were kind and responsible. They wouldn't leave Harry alone while on the Express if he didn't want to be.

A few minutes later, when the boys appeared in one of the Hogwarts Express's windows and began to wave goodbye as the train took off, Molly had to clutch Arthur's hand to keep herself hunching over to cry. This was the last time she was going to see either of her boys before _Christmas_. All her babies were finally grown up.

Kissing her cheek, Arthur murmured into her ear, "You did well, Molly, they're great boys."

Turning her head to meet her husband's eyes, Molly said, " _We_ did well. I didn't raise them all on my own."

He smiled. "No, I suppose not."

Leaning in for a kiss, Molly sank into Arthur's loving arms. It'd been a long while since they were last able to kiss like this. Definitely not since Junior went to stay with his sister in August. They would have even further deepened their kiss if not for the gagging noises of Dill and Anthony and the whistling of their father.

Flushing, Molly yanked herself away from Arthur and snapped, "Honestly! You'd think you could control you boys, Viola."

Arthur's sister just gave an amused little smirk. "Dear me, are you _embarrassed_ Molly?"

"Of course not," Arthur replied as he slipped an around around Molly's waist. "Your husband and boys just ruined our first real kiss in nearly a month. It was a brilliant kiss too. Up until Dill and Anthony started making noises, anyway. Wouldn't you agree, Molly?"

Molly smiled. "It was brilliant. In fact, it reminded me of our first kiss. Remember how we were so pi–"

"Little pitchers!" Viola barked, grabbing her boys and pressing their heads into her shoulders.

It was Molly's turn to smirk. Viola was well aware of the rest of the story surrounding their first kiss, how it was elicited by a dare in a game of Truth or Dare. How that first kiss turned into outright snogging in front of friends and not-friends alike thanks to a few shots of whiskey beforehand.

Laughing, Arthur let his arm fall from Molly's waist to take her hand again. "I guess it's time we go get that ice cream we were talking about the other day?"

"Yeah!" the children shouted, Dill beginning to tug at his parents clothes as Anthony appeared beside Molly and took her free hand.

"C'mon, Aunt Molly," the little boy urged.

Fondly, Molly ruffled his hair. Her sons might be gone for the time being, but she would be fine. They were not lost, just traveling a path that lead away from Molly for now. They would return and in the meantime she had Arthur, Mimi, and the rest of the Weasley family at her side to fill up the empty space and time created by her boys' departures.

Casting a glance toward where the Hogwarts Express once stood, Molly thought, ' _Be safe, Harry, Junior. Make your father and I proud._ '

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading and please leave a comment and/or kudo!


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